Let Down!

by welcome_to_dark

Summary:

"Izuku I–” she choked, “I wasn't able to– to save you in the end… I'm so sorry Izuku…”

But Izuku only shook his head, “That's not right….” he still smiled, “I think that you had a little bit of All Might in you… You really did save me.” Inko sobbed further, gathering the boy in her arms and crying into his hospital gown, “Thank you, mom.”

“There's no other hero like you in the whole world,” he gripped her warm shirt and finally let himself cry with her, the pain giving way to the warmth of relief.

—---

There was no relief today. There was nothing he could do for her.

He wanted to scream in guttural agony. There was nothing he could have done for her.

~~~~~
To gain a quirk but to lose something far more valuable: A story in which Izuku Midoriya is put through the wringer!

Notes:

This story includes a lot of self harm, suicidal thoughts/tendencies and death (as well as themes of death) so be warned!

Chapter 1: Smile, What’s the Use of crying?

Summary:

When things seemed impossible, it was his mom that didn’t give up.

Notes:

WARNINGS: character death, grief, very sad chapter.

There was nothing he could do. 

 

His mom, his first hero: real and tangible. She protected him so fiercely it struck his soul with an admiration only All Might could spark. She soared above life with her influence, breaking down All Might from #1, to #2. The charts always stayed the same, but Izuku knew. That man– that no good criminal– stood no chance against his Mom. He was powerful, but in the face of a mother scorned he was nothing but dust in her wake. Izuku didn't like thinking about that day. The burns all down his side were his daily reminder. Not a reminder of how that man had hurt him, but of the Hero that saved him. 

 

yet there was nothing he could do for her. 

 

He loved her fiercely since that day. He would pick flowers for her, make her breakfast, and hold her close. There never went a day where Izuku didn't tell her how important she was, how much he loved her. That day had scared him. He thought he would never see her again– his last thought before being rushed to the hospital was Does she know? does she know how much I love her? He used to be devastated in being quirkless. She was too, but in the way his dreams were shattered. Izuku spoke to her in the hospital then, eyes lifted in hope. 

 

Machines beeped around him, his mother at his bedside as tears slipped down her cheeks. Izuku smiled though. Through the fear and the pain, he smiled up at his hero and wished her every victory. 

“mom,” he said, tinny and frail but with all his strength, “I'm going to be a Hero like you when I grow up.”

 

His mom looked at him then, so small and sadly– like all the world had done him wrong.

 

“Izuku I–” she choked, “I wasn't able to– to save you in the end… I'm so sorry Izuku…”

 

But Izuku only shook his head, “That's not right….” he still smiled, “I think that you had a little bit of All Might in you… You really did save me.” Inko sobbed further, gathering the boy in her arms and crying into his hospital gown, “Thank you, mom.”

 

“Theres no other hero like you in the whole world,” he gripped her warm shirt and finally let himself cry with her, the pain giving way to the warmth of relief.

 

There was no relief today. There was nothing he could do for her. 

 

He wanted to scream in guttural agony. There was nothing he could have done for her. 

 

He saw it on the news first. The reporter had gone through the story so quick he almost missed it. Like ripping off a bandaid, he caught it. He stood up so quickly from the couch that the remote clattered to the floor. His heartbeat was in his ears. It cant be, he gasped, This cant be happening. Ongoing footage of the incident came up on screen, a villain holding the hospital hostage. Izuku didn't know if it was just the one or many more as one villain was perched on top of the building, shouting demands. He looked twisted and snively… but he didnt focus on that. it was the name of the hospital, the one his mother worked at. He barely had time to think before his shoes were on and he was out the door. He sprinted the whole way– he didn't know how he did it, but his legs carried him so quickly to the scene that only about 20 minutes had passed in the standstill. Heroes were trying to negotiate with the villain. Izuku shook his head, shaking and gasping for air. His legs were finally beginning to ache as he watched behind the crowd of police and witnesses. His ears barely registered the speech the Villain was dishing out. 

 

“WE'LL LET THEM GO IF YOU LET US WALK AWAY!” He screeched, “NOTHIN’ WILL HAPPEN IF YOU JUST LET US GO!” 

 

“i--I think we can do that–!” one hero responded, but was cut short by the villain sprinting off. 

 

Heroes swarmed the area and Izuku could hear screams from inside the hospital. Cold dread washed down him. 

 

“Shit!” one heroine spoke, “Weve got twelve injured! bring the stretchers! Don't let them escape– this is a distraction!” A couple other costumed men and women nodded, splitting up to catch the criminals while others rushed inside. 

 

“no…” Izuku shuddered, “No, no no… Mom you can't…” and his legs moved again. 

 

shouts and pleas came from doctors who pulled out stretchers, some directed towards him and some towards the heroes. He didnt hear all of what they were saying. He guessed that they were telling him to stay back– but he didnt listen. 

 

There was nothing he could have done for her. 

 

That statement seared his mind while he walked forward. The doors were open to the lobby where concrete cracked and doors were broken. He didn’t spare the damage a glance. His eyes trained straight onto his mother. 

 

Heroes and nurses crowded her, shaking their heads and holding her hand. They were trying to comfort her, the thought was ice in his heart before anger replaced it, They’re going to let her die cold. He pushed through them, confused looks and panicked orders all around. But one doctor– to whom he will forever be grateful– recognised him. 

 

“You're her boy,” he whispered, broken and tearing up, “Aren't you?”

 

He nodded numbly. The doctor grimaced. 

 

“she… she doesn't have time. I'm so sorry, midoriya…” 

 

He was no longer listening. With a strength he didn't have he pushed the heroes to the side, scooting in towards his mother. Her eyes were still open but the light was fading. 

 

There was nothing– no. There was one last thing he could do for her. 

 

Holding her up, he hugged her close. He whispered to her that he loved her, she was his hero. 

 

“...Love… you too,” her voice was breathless, “Thank you… Izuku,” with what little strength she had, she clutched his shirt. 

 

There was one last thing he could do for her. He would be there, to keep her warm when the world went cold. 

 

“It's going to be okay mom,” he whispered back, letting her feel his smile, “...Because I'm here, I'll always be here. I love you….” 

 

It hurt him. It hurt and it burned but he smiled as much as he could while he cried. He could feel her life slipping between his fingers but he held on. He clutched her close. He felt eternally grateful that he could say goodbye one last time. Before her eyes slid closed, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and rested his own on hers. She smiled up at him. Her lids fell and her last breath tickled his nose, but she smiled for the final time before slipping into her final rest. For him, she smiled. 

 

And for the last time, he wished her every victory.  

 

 

 

The shock never faded hours later. Doctors set him in a hospital room and the one that sat beside his mother spoke to him softly. He explained what had happened. 

 

“It… It was the villain's quirk. He could set commands for people's bodily functions, from what I could understand. Your mother…” he looked like he wanted to cry, “She was so brave… we didn't know what was going on but she threw herself into the fray to protect the patients. That awful man was trying to kill off some of the worse off patients but… she stopped him. Before we could escape the man got a hold of her and– and well– oh god…”

 

tears finally slipped down his cheeks. For the first time since his mother slipped away from him, he began to process what everything looked like. The doctor had puffy cheeks and a white, short beard. His hair was pearly and small round glasses perched on his nose. He looked infinitely kind– a bit like Santa Claus, Izuku realised. The man looked like he had come from america too. His quirk was a little visible in that his fingertips were a mint green. He supposed the man had a sort of touch activated diagnosis quirk. Izuku didn't bother to expand on how he inferred that. 

 

He also began to remember what she looked like, what the lobby looked like– and what the doctor had told the other people around his Mom. 

 

She was in her nurse scrubs, a pretty yellow thing that Izuku remembered her wearing some years ago when he last stopped by. Her hair was a little messy, and her eyes were puffy from tears. The lobby was destroyed, desks and chairs thrown around with some patients huddled together while heroes filed in. The doctor was practically begging the others to let Izuku have this moment with Inko. He told them that she deserved to have at least this, how he wouldn't let them rip them away from each other. That way, Izuku knew there wasn’t any hope for her to be saved. If that doctor thought it better for Izuku to comfort than treat her… But he was glad. He was thankful for that man, for how he let him comfort her instead. He didn't know what he would have done if it weren't for him. 

 

Izuku knew that the grief was going to hit him. Hard. He knew he would crash and burn if he let the grief hit him right here in the hospital. So, he got up. 

 

“Thank you,” Izuku tried a smile, “Thank you for– for letting me do that for her.”

 

The doctor sniffled and swiped away some tears, “No, my boy, Thank you. I don't know how, but it must have been by some miracle that you were there. She needed that the most– not some comfort from a colleague– so thank you.” He came up and clasped one of Izuku's hands so gently, “You both were true heroes… I know it's going to be trying times ahead, but if you need anything at all, you can call me. For--for what you both did, I am forever indebted.” The doctor put his business card in Izuku's palm. Izuku didn't have the strength to look at it.

 

He nodded, walking out of the room and down to the lobby. He didn't look. He couldn't look. He walked out and ignored the reporters– they never spared a glance at him either. The perks of being plain. 

 

It was foggy outside, drizzling rain as if the weather were mourning Inko too. At least the weather has some decency, the thought was mirthless. He walked back home in the soft rain, letting it soak his hair and shirt. Izuku tried to reason that the rain was making his eyes water. He never felt the tears slip down, but he knew they did. The sky became darker as he walked, settling into the beautiful hues of sunset. The sun twinkled against the horizon without a care and the sheer beauty of it made Izuku angry. 

 

A hero died today, He seethed, Don't you know that? The world had no use looking that beautiful, No good right to either. He felt so shattered and numb– The sunset shouldn't look back at him as if everything will be okay. 

 

But that’s what he told his mom. He promised her that it was going to be okay– that he was going to be okay– so maybe he was angry at himself. The sun did get to look beautiful, because he was going to be alright. He was going to live on. He couldn't imagine living on without her, but she would want him to. 

so when the sun blinked from the sky, he kept walking. His legs would keep moving if that's the last thing he could do for her. I'm going to live, he sobbed, I'm going to live and it's going to hurt, but I have to live for her. He had school tomorrow. He would go to school, he would endure, and he would come back to honor her memory. I'm going to live tomorrow. 

 

The apartment was so empty without her. Izuku knew that there was a chance of social services coming to collect him. He didn't want to be put in the system, an orphaned quirkless kid was a title he didn't want. He knew it would make it harder to live if he was– was put in a home. There was always an extent to how the law would ignore him. Police wouldn't take his statements and teachers would outright ignore him– so there was a chance that the social workers would skip over his case. He pushed another wave of grief down. He couldn't do that right now, he needed to think. He had to get out of any situation he might be in before he could let himself burn. 

 

A quirkless kid losing his mom. There was no way a worker would come looking for him. Wasn't that a sad thought. 

 

Izuku shook it off, wiggling the jitters from his hands and sweeping the apartment. I can probably find a place to stay, after that I can turn in the keys. Every word was a knife to his heart. To continue living, he had to give up the warm life he had. Sure, the bullying was less ideal– but his mother was the light in his life. His Auntie was nice too, but he stopped talking to her as much when Katsuki became worse. Izuku shook those thoughts off. People don't hire kids, I can't get a job but I can probably go to… the worse part of town… and find a dilapidated building to huddle in. He could do this. 

 

First, he stopped by his room. He took a look around and listed down everything he saw. He wanted to take as much as he could with him– maybe sell some stuff if he had to. The decorations he took could probably help hide cracked walls too. make his living space less sad later. He couldn’t take the bed, but he would take anything he could haul off. 

 

Grabbing some suitcases from his room, he began packing away the important stuff first. He didn't have much in the way of clothes but it was enough. He packed the essentials, some small figures, and a spare alarm clock he kept from when he was younger. It wasn't an All Might one, but he figured it would be useful if the one he had now broke. He didn’t want to think about how that would happen. Next, he whipped out a small duffle bag and trudged towards his Mom's room. Peering inside, it was a little messy but smelled just like her perfume. The bed was half-made as she usually left early in the mornings. He went to her closet and suppressed a sob. 

 

Her favorite sweater– old and sort of washed out– was prominent against her racks of clothes. It was a sunflower yellow. Her favorite color. It was a little large after being worn through the years, so she usually wore it on lazy days in the house when she didn't have work. Izuku already missed seeing her wear it. Izuku slipped the sweater from the hanger and folded it gently. He would take this and perhaps other sweaters of hers. He flipped through the clothes, fingers stinging and heart heavy. She had a red sweater that she bought to match Izuku's shoes on his tenth birthday. He took that too. Izuku smiled at the memories of each cardigan and shrugs, each silly shirt and every long-sleeve. The few that stood out to him were folded and put away. All in all, he took a good few of her sweaters. A skinny striped one in black and white with marble-brown buttons, A maroon turtleneck that she hadn't worn in years when it became too small for her, A pink and white striped one with a little monkey sewn onto the breast; he remembered seeing this one in old photos when Izuku was a baby. He loved that sweater when he was young. He also found an All Might cardigan he picked out for her some time ago, as it was thick and possibly hand-knitted– something for the winter. He found a couple other comfortable shirts too. Some things he could probably get away with wearing. It gave him a modicum of comfort to wear something of hers. He pushed the thought away. Don't cry, not now. 

 

He also walked over to her dresser and opened her small jewelry box. She wasn't one for jewels, but sometimes she put on a pair of earrings or a small necklace. He looked through the sparse box and picked up a small beaded bracelet. This was hers, she liked this one best. Without thinking, Izuku clipped it on. The small silvery chain felt heavier than it looked. It grazed against his wrist coldly but hugged him in comfort. Izuku already felt better. The beads were green and speckled gold, silver rings separating the glass of the beads from the silver chain. It was so… interesting. The more he looked at it, the more they reminded him of irises and eyes. 

 

He moved on from the room, going down the apartment and finding little items he fondly looked on. A couple images in frames, little ceramic cat figures his mom collected… He took an extra pair of house slippers too. Looking through the living room, he noted a couple knitted blankets he could take. Then he noticed the TV. It was still on and displaying the news channel. There was a hero in front of a horde of microphones. It was a conference, Izuku realized, about what happened at the hospital. The hero was just about to open his mouth to spew facts about the incident when Izuku slammed the ‘off’ button on the remote. There was no room in his mind to think about what happened. He felt so high strung– shaking in the force it took to not freak out already. 

 

He felt like there was a timer on how long he could be strong before he broke. Any moment now, he could crumple down and finally break after everything. There would be a funeral– he couldn't break there. He wasn't even sure if he could attend it at all, given how much his hand was shaking now. Grimly, he set the remote down. Immediate importance, Izuku reminded himself, focus. 

 

somehow he got through the day. He took all the strength he had and shoved it into his bones. He kept moving, continued on, not stopping until his mental checklist was done. And when it was? he couldn't even stand. 

 

 The last check swiped through his mind like a guillotine. The final bell sounded and his legs crumpled beneath him. With a cry of surprise and grief, he fell. The floor was cold and unforgiving under his hands and he hissed at the feeling. HIs arms were noodles beneath him. Shaking, he clawed himself towards the couch and squeezed the tears from his eyes. 5 seconds, He pleaded, I just need five seconds–! 

 

He flinched like a gong went off in his ears– but in reality it was his world crashing down around him. Tears sprung from his eyes and he choked on every breath. The adrenaline he had been running on ran out, he curled himself around the couch and screamed into the fabric. It was a wretched, crackling thing. Everything burned as the memories of that day beat him down. Thrashing at the couch while he sobbed– He missed her, he missed her, he missed her and There was nothing he could do. She was gone. 

 

Wiped from the earth, the sun he had looked up to everyday was shot out of the sky in just one day. His grief wasn't slow, or crawling, it hit him like a vengeful truck. She was gone. No more breakfasts, or heartfelt conversations, or giggly holidays… He spoke to her just today. He wanted to talk to her. He had so much to tell her– but he'd never get to do that again. There would be no more talks, no more soft snoring from her bedroom after late nights, no more movie marathons. No birthdays, no hugs, no kisses no worries to share nothing– because she. was. gone. He can't believe that the last conversation he had with her was over breakfast today. Death was so quick, Izuku had no time to stop it before her life was ripped away from her. Death was quicker than life, it left her memory with the world but took her soul– it was like she was still alive. Like she would come back from work any second now. Every thought was a knife to Izuku's heart. No one would notice she was dead. They would wonder for weeks where she was– but they wouldn't know just yet. Izuku wondered if anyone would ever notice if he died. 

 

Inko had her friends, she had Auntie and her coworkers, and she had Izuku. They would be waiting for her, they would notice if she was gone. But Izuku? he had none of that. At best, people would notice he was gone when they didn't have someone to bully, or when Izuku wasn't there to clean the slurs and spider lilies off his desk. Sure, His mom would notice– but she was gone now. No one would notice if I died. 

 

And his screaming stopped. He didn't know how long he had been there on the couch, as it was still night, but he was snapped from his grief and into numb motions. Tears still slipped down his cheeks, but all emotion left his eyes. His head was pounding and his cheeks were burning from the tears. And yet. The grief stepped aside for some new emotion. One that told him his life was null and void. One that said that if he died today, no one would realize he was gone tomorrow. 

 

no, izuku scrubbed his eyes, that's not true! Katsuki– or auntie– or at least the kids at school would notice if I was gone! 

 

Sure, the emotion snarked back, but would they care? Would they cry over his loss? or would they just tsk and scoff like everyone else– like his life was on a timer and quickly running out. Like it was expected. 

 

What was expected? Izuku froze. 

 

That you would kill yourself, of course. The emotions’ words echoed back, quirkless kids don't last. 

 

That statement held the entirety of Izuku's life in them. Quirkless kids don't last. It was true. He had seen the statistics, the articles and harsh words. Every time he walked out of the house, it was onto a battlefield where every word was targeted and stung like knives. They cut into his skin and spread a sort of infection he couldn’t fight off. They don't last. their lives never last. They could fight and claw their way into some semblance of a normal life– but they were hunted. They were chased out like a plague and treated like animals. Human decency was not a concept for Izuku, as it was only ever given to him by three people in his life. And now? No one would ever treat him as human again. Quirkless kids don't last. He could feel himself expiring already. 

 

Has the rot seeped in yet? Has your heart stopped? Izuku could feel the disease festering beneath his skin. He was dead already. If he walked out of the house tomorrow he was a dead man, just walking with the rot on his skin. The crawl of death came up his arms and itched his brain– his heart wasn't beating anymore–!

 

Except it was. 

 

Izuku didn't know what was scarier. The fact that he was still alive today, or that he would be dead tomorrow. 

 

He promised he would live for his mom. It was what she would have wanted, but what if it wasn't possible for him? He was dying, there was nothing he could do except end his consciousness where it stood. Make the pain of being dead go away. You can't walk with a still heart, or a collapsed lung– but here he was. It hurt to be dead, he found. 

 

All too suddenly he felt sick. He felt dirty with rot and sickness, like dirt was on his skin. He felt like he had just crawled out of the grave to be here– to even be moving anymore. He stumbled up from the couch, hurrying to the bathroom to look at his face in the mirror to hopefully rid himself of the crawling feeling. There were no bugs or dirt on his skin. No blood either. He looked clean and fine, but he needed to shower. 

 

He didn't feel clean or fine. He still felt like he was hugging a body. He felt like his hands were in his chest, physically pumping his heart to keep him going. He shivered. Izuku turned the shower on and let it become scorching before taking off his All Might hoodie and pants, stepping in. His skin was being cooked in the shower but he couldn't hardly feel it. It stung his skin but it didn't heat up his muscle and bone like the last time he was burned. Mindlessly, Izuku touched the network of scars, tracing the trail the fire took on his body. He felt no heat today. The scar was different. Real fire that cooked you alive doesn't feel that tame. 

 

Once he was sure the shower had sprayed him down thoroughly enough, he lathered on some soap. He scrubbed himself raw, scratching his skin down to welts in places before he felt clean enough. 

 

He was dead, but his mom didn't get the luxury of showering the rot away. 

He let another tear slip. His legs didn’t stop moving though, just as he promised her. 

 

~~~~~

Notes:

Whoopsie… teehee

Chapter 2: Give me a hand

Summary:

Izuku finally takes that step and a certain detective we all know and love finds the scene. Eraserhead makes an appearance.

Notes:

WARNINGS: blood, suicidal thoughts, tendencies, and actions, and gore elements— descriptions of crime scene.

That promise was feeling more like a curse today. He hadn't gotten any sleep that night. Sure, he would fall into blissful unconsciousness for about half an hour– but then he would be bolt-upright and checking his heartbeat. His head buzzed like a hive settled in his brain and his limbs felt weak. Izuku felt especially dizzy today. His walk to school left him feeling tired and short of breath. He wasn't able to catch a look of himself in the mirror yet, but by the way strangers flinched back he knew he looked terrible. 

 

When he climbed the steps to his classroom he knew it was going to be a bad day. 

People found out his mom had died, evidently, by the amount of times “orphan” was inscribed on his desk. The pile of flowers was easy enough to clean. He scooped them up and put them in the nearest trash can. Quickly, he wiped down his desk and threw away any evidence that remained. 

 

By the time he finished cleaning his desk, students filed into the classroom and gave him dirty looks. Some even laughed to their friends and looked back at him. A final few gave him confused and pitied looks. He didn't react to a single one though. 

He stared ahead, succumbing to the buzzing in his mind and silently spacing out. He didn't even register the hits some kids slung at his head. Everything felt so… far away. The pain didn't even reach him as he floated between being there and staring at the wall. He just couldn't concentrate on anything today. 

 

Eventually, Katsuki walked in. 

A rough shove registered to Izuku, which made him slowly turn around and blink at the blond. Bakugo clenched his jaw. 

“The fuck is up with you?” He grumbled, but otherwise seemed subdued. Izuku didn't answer him. 

Katsuki looked conflicted today. his demeanor had shifted into something guilty and wrong. Izuku felt his mind wander away, back to the wall. 

 

Hours later after class was over, he stumbled out of his seat. His eyes felt incredibly dry and his vision was blurry. His mind wandered again and he watched his eyelids close. I can't sleep here, Izuku finally remembered, I have to get home, school is over. He picked his backpack up and heard footsteps leaving the room. Before they left, a note was thrown at his head along with a shout of “Join your mother!” He really wished people would stop tempting him.

He uncrumpled the note. This was the first step in a series of mistakes on his part. 

 

End it already, your mom is waiting for you.

 

Izuku really thought that cruelty came to a point. At some point he always hoped that those boys would realize what was too much– if they really were just insulting some quirkless kid. At some point, in some way, they would take a step back before it got any worse. When he was younger it wasn't this bad. Now, there was a year left in middle school before school started up again for highschool. 

 

I'm only thirteen, He finally broke. 

 

School would end in a couple days and he would be free. but would he really? He would be out of school, but the world still persisted in other places. He would still have to get up every morning, still live without his mom, still be on the streets in just a few short days. What was the point anymore?

 

I'm already thirteen, I've lived longer than average already. 

 

The average life expectancy for quirkless children and young adults was abysmally low already. He would become another statistic today. Before he knew it, wind was whipping against his face as sluggish tears fell from his eyes. The emotion from last night crawled back up his throat. 

wait--wait wait, Izuku reared back from the ledge, what am I doing? I have to get home I have to–! …to what? to grieve?

 

His heart was impossibly heavy. Each swallow left his throat dry and scraping– wind blistering his face. His entire being cried out for reprieve from the loss of his mother. While there was space in his heart from the hole she left, it still weighed him down on the edge of his school. 

Izuku also noticed how the school hadn't put up a fence around their roof yet. They'll want to do that after this. His mind soured, knowing that no one would be waiting for him at home. over and over, all he could think about was what was the point? She wouldn't be there. She would never be there for him again. 

On that ledge, Izuku never knew he would feel so free. He could give up right now. It would all be over. He would hit the ground and fall into the same dreamless sleep his mom had– missing her was just too much of a burden. It hurt without her, it hurt so much that death seemed to be of no consequence. 

 

for once, his mind was free from thought. 

 

And he jumped. 

 

 

—--

 

The world was so blissfully dark. His mind wrapped around him and welcomed the sleep with open arms. He had felt so terrible before– so tired, beaten, and weak. Now, however, he was perfectly the same as any other body. No aches, no groans and nothing bothering his conscious. One thing he did wish for was to see his mom again. just… just to see her okay. To see her smiling again and to hold her close without her body steadily growing colder. Although, now that seemed like too much to ask for. 

Just as he began to settle into the dreamless sleep it was ripped away from him. The world shined through his dead eyes in a blinding white. Disoriented from the sudden gain of thoughts and live pain receptors, he gasped and coughed up breaths. Something cold and congealed flew from his mouth and onto the hard ground. scrubbing his eyes, he sat up. 

 

What greeted him was not pretty. 

 

his clothes– once pristine– now lay somewhat shredded around his back and arms. The white and gray of the concrete was now stained a deep red. Old blood painted the floor and a clean night sky waved from above. Even under the moonlight his eyes burned. 

I'm crazy, I must be crazy! His mouth dropped open, I was dead– I jumped! I should be dead! 

His hands shook. Everything shook. But he wasn't hurting– so he didn't know what to focus on first. The astonishing lack of pain or the lack of any injuries at all. For a brief moment, he almost believed that the blood wasn't his. 

 

“ww–!” Izuku coughed, “Wha--at? What?” whispering, he muttered over the scene. 

Blood on the floor, clothes sort of ruined, the (very real!!) memory of jumping: He was supposed to be dead. There was no coming back from that. Except by some god forsaken miracle where it was. The one exception for some plain, orphaned, quirkless kid. 

 

Now he was just mad. Why not for kind, heroic mothers? why just me! She deserved to live!! Huffing, he sat up and groaned at the soreness in his back. I must have been here for a while, if the moon was any indication. I know I wont be getting any sleep tonight either… The dizziness still persisted. After a bit of trial and error, he managed to get up and scan the ground. There was quite a bit of… organic matter on the ground, and blood. So, So much blood. But that was a problem for later. Right now, he had to focus on retrieving his backpack and getting rid of as much evidence as he could and fast. In his mind he listed what he needed to do in a particular order: Grab his backpack, muddle the evidence, wash away the blood, and rip out the cameras that had a small chance of seeing him. If he had time for the last one, he would do that after lowering the chances of officers testing the blood. 

 

Not wanting to waste any more time, he pulled off his gakuran and put it on his head. Concealing his face effectively enough. He didn't want to test his luck when cameras were involved. Next, he ran towards the front of the school and thanked every star in the universe that the doors were unlocked. They were in a nicer part of the neighborhood, so why would they?

Although, he was curious as to how nobody found him yet. He wasn’t sure how long he had been standing on the roof, but he'd at least assumed a teacher would still be inside. Maybe there was, A part of him whispered, Maybe they just didn't care enough to report it right away. 

 

Izuku moved faster. Flying up the steps, he reached the roof and swiped up his bag where it lay on the ground. Today was a rough day for him but it was about to become much rougher. 

 

Whizzing past each floor he came to a stop on the ground floor, setting his backpack down just outside of the doors. From some experience, he knew that there was a large blindspot between the outer doors and indoor cameras. He utilized this to keep his backpack a little out of sight. There had been no reason to fix the spot in the past, but Izuku had a feeling that a lot of things were going to change after tonight. 

But then again… looking up at the cameras, they didn't seem to be running at all. They probably only kept the cameras there so students knew not to cause trouble— which was kind of stupid. They bullied him anyway, but the camera footage had never been brought up. Maybe they kept them off to claim ignorance if something like this happened. After all, no footage was really the same as no evidence. Not that anyone would fight them legally.

 

Shaking the stark thoughts away, Izuku walked towards the nearest janitor's closet. He knew those weren’t locked after the amount of times he had hid in them. Opening it up, he reached for a large spray bottle and inspected the label. Although the writing was lopsided and shortened, he read it as “table cleaner”. Izuku guessed that it was the stuff they used after each day on the lunchroom tables. So, mostly water… moving on, he lugged up a jug of a light blue solution that only read “mop”. He deemed that good enough. 

 

His ‘goal’ (if you could even call covering up his own death that) was not to completely get rid of the evidence, but to just make it impossible for anyone to identify it as him who, er… whatever, just—yeah. Cleaning it up completely would take too long, and he wasn’t sure how long he had until sunrise. Chemicals plus Time on blood meant the DNA would break down enough to be unusable. Concrete like this was a little impossible to get blood out of anyway without industrial strength cleaner. so without preamble– Wait a minute. Izuku stilled his hand just before the chemical poured onto the concrete. He looked up, ever so slowly, watching the nearest camera. A red light winked back at him…And that was when Izuku recognised them as a newer model. The inside cameras might have been off and old, but the outside? Those cameras save to an external drive, any damage I do to them will only further incriminate me. 

Dread settled in his stomach. The cameras saw. Those cameras all saw me jump, land, and get up. His lip trembled, What am I going to do now? Dropping the cleaner, he ran for his bag. Shaking, he rounded up the straps and his gakuran and ran. 

dammit dammit dammit! He wasted too much time there, he had to get home and most likely run away. The police would find him if he stayed home. What was he supposed to tell them? That some quirkless kid jumped off of a building and survived? no, not just survived, but lived enough to try and cover his tracks? Fat chance they would believe that. 

 

But how did he survive that? 

 

Izuku chose to think about that rather than the spots entering his vision. He wanted to ask how anyone could survive that… but he already knew how. A quirk, awe filled him, It had to have been a quirk. Quirks were– well– were small miracles that people like him just couldn't do. He couldn't fly, or make fire, or even attract small objects– but today, he discovered one thing he could do. 

I can come back from the dead. He stumbled at the steps of his apartment. The thought turned sour. How come I get another chance, but my mom– who was a hero until the moment she died– doesn't get even a couple more hours? He bit his cheek. He picked up his pace on the stairs upwards and tried his hardest to keep quiet. What are the drawbacks? If I died and came back, the drawbacks have to be significant. Izuku wondered when he would start feeling them. 

The police will test that blood tomorrow– if I'm lucky, it'll take 72 hours for them to get those blood tests back, at worst it will be 24 hours. He had 24 hours to pack up his life. Only 24 hours to at least get somewhere safe enough to live from. The first order of business was sleep– he could probably get in four hours of sleep tonight. Not that it would be easy to sleep. 

Where is my head at? Izuku groaned and huddled into the apartment, They would come after me anyway when they recover that footage. Other than that, he just had to pray they didn't come after him until tomorrow. Before he headed to bed, he took the things he packed up the night before and set them by the door. Then, he packed up a few non-perishable foods he could find, setting those by the door too. 

Izuku let himself collapse into his bed. It felt impossibly warm against his clammy skin– the cold that he hadn't noticed from his own skin making him shiver. His headache– which he had also failed to recognise earlier– slowly edged away when he let his eyes close. He breathed deeply and smiled a little. He was exhausted. But he was also glad he got to sleep in his All Might comforter for one more night. 

 

sleep quickly took him.

 

—----

 

“Holy shit…” Detective Tsukauchi whispered. Blood exploded in front of him. He didn’t know what to look at–Blood spread all over from a body-shaped mass to each splatter on the ground. It had long since dried but the horror of it still stood. 

 

Police officers surrounded the school, setting up a parameter of police tape and telling stray students to head back home. The principal was speaking to officers just beyond the barrier, sending worried glances over at the large bloodstain. Now the Detective made a correction to his statement– he didn't know what to look at first. 

The stain held some organic matter that had dried into slimy shrivels and there were bloody footsteps exiting the puddle. Near the edge of the pool there was a gallon container on the ground, spilling over the blood and not helping wash the blood at all. Tsukauchi has seen hundreds of murder scenes before. The blood and gore and horror of it all wasn’t lost on him. 

This will never get easier to look at, he sighed. 

Looking at it closer, something struck him. The blood stain is so small, his eyes went wide, and this is a middle school. 

Tsukauchi was going to be sick. He felt himself lurch but he held it in. He shut his eyes and breathed through his mouth, shutting out the depressing Image his brain supplied. 

 

“‘Scuse me Detective,” one officer approached him, “but the Principal said she’s got some info for you… er, you don’t look too good. Do you need a minute?” 

Tsukauchi opened his eyes and looked at the officer behind him. “No, no I…” he hummed, “I’m good. Let’s go.” 

Turning away from the scene of the crime, Naomasa headed straight for the paling principal. Otsuka, he remembered. 

 

“Hello Principal Otsuka, I heard you’ve got something for me?” Tsukauchi didn’t find it appropriate to smile but he gave her a small, worried smile. The principal nodded and wrung her shaking hands.

“S-so… I thought you’d like to know that we have cameras here. You can see one just at the school gates there—“ she pointed, and there was two, “— And I could get the footage for you. But um… ah, well— I’m not sure I have the strength to look at the footage. I don’t want to know what you’ll find on there…” Her eyes suddenly flicked up to the school roof. Naomasa raised his eyebrow but followed her gaze. 

There wasn’t a fence around the roof. Tsukauchi’s breath hitched. The blood stain was directly below the roof. 

 

“Otsuka-san…” he hated how things added up, “do you have any reason to believe that one of your students may have committed suicide?” 

Her eyes slid closed, lip wobbling, “Not—Not before today. We aren’t usually aware of any of our student’s mental health unless incidents occur or we are made aware by necessity. I hate to say it but…” She thought for a moment, “…One of our students is a bit of a trouble maker, and seems frightened most of the time… a trauma response, and he’s pretty troubled. It’s not really my place to speculate— as it probably won’t be the same kid— but if the profiles match up I could probably help out more.” 

Naomasa nodded, his quirk singing truth. “I understand. We won’t be holding that against you. Our job is to get to the bottom of things, not gather information we don’t need. However, if the profiles match up, you’ll probably have to give a statement. Are you alright with that?” 

She nodded. 

“Alright, now, if you could show us those tapes?” He swept an arm behind him, making sure his body still covered the stain. She hedged forward. 

When they made it into the building, Naomasa took note of the few bloody prints on the ground. Kindly, he told the principal to step around them. She led him into her office And sat down at the desk. Naomasa requested both the school gate and the school entrance footage. Shaking, she obliged and clicked on a few files before pulling up the footage. She hopped out of her chair like a fire had lit beneath her and motioned for him to sit down. 

In front of him played the camera that faced the bloody stain. The camera played from real time and saved footage in twelve hour increments— Naomasa clicked on the footage and dragged it to the end of the school day. Then he waited. The principal excused herself, asking that he show her back in when he wanted to see the other camera. Naomasa kept waiting. Around the hour mark since school ended, nothing happened except for a teacher hurrying from the building and into the sidewalk. Tsukauchi wrote that down. Thirty minutes after that, something small flitted at the top of the footage. No, not something. 

Someone. 

 

It happened so fast Tsukauchi flinched back from the screen. A limp body fell from the top of the building and onto the ground. Staring in horror, Tsukauchi watched as it hit the ground and splattered. He covered his mouth but couldn’t look away. He had never been so glad for bad footage in his life when the boy’s skull exploded. He closed his eyes then. 

Gathering some courage after a minute, he opened his eyes again to see the same scene but in the dark backdrop of the night sky. He stared at the screen. 

He didn’t dare look at the body again. Everything was still, so Tsukauchi skipped the footage by about 30 seconds. Now, there was movement. Not from the school or the gate, but from the dead boy. Slowly, weakly, his breaths picked up. 

Naomasa felt his heart drop. He survived that? He knew the chances of someone surviving a fall like that. The chances were low, but not zero. He’s seen it before, how some people survive the drop and have to wait for help to arrive— or they’re saved on the way to the hospital. But… This is just a boy. He—he survived, and he had to wait for help. No one would have come… tears pricked his eyes. He blinked them back. 

His horror and sadness didn’t last though. Quickly, it turned to fear. There was no body found. He watched on. The body began to move. 

 

The body picked. Itself. Up. 

 

A gasp left his lips and he brought himself closer to the monitor. The boy was stumbling, moving like he was disoriented and looking around the site. When the boy’s face was visible to the camera, Tsukauchi wanted to cry. He was so young— that small face was dripping with blood that should never have been there in the first place. Naomasa also knew that he would have to write down time stamps for the video but not… not right now. It was hard enough to watch without the additional task. The boy staggered up, sort of limp still, and one arm looking strangely bent. Tsukauchi watched as the boy took off his gakuran– but his other arm twisted. It whipped around and snapped into place just before he had to shrug it out of his uniform. 

What was that?? He wanted to ponder on what the hell was going on, but the surprises kept coming. The boy hobbled into the building. Minutes later, he came back into the view of the camera with a gallon jug of chemicals. Just as he was to pour the chemicals down he paused. Slowly, his head turned around to meet the front of the school. 

The chemicals were dropped, his feet now pounded against the concrete as he ran towards the school. He returned, backpack slung around his shoulder and fear carved into his face when it came close enough to the camera. He ran away, never coming back. 

Question, Tsukauchi furiously scrolled the footage back, what the hell did I just watch? He jotted down the timestamps, still reeling. The kid got up after dying— there’s no way it could’ve been a quirk… could it have been? Naomasa knew about healing quirks and certain ones that gave people more control over their bodies, but never a second chance type of quirk. Quirks are evolving every generation, but this is… terrifying if true. With a breath, he closed out the tab and called the principal back in. 

 

“You… is it bad? You—you look pale.” She asked nervously. Tsukauchi scrubbed his face, sighing into his hand before looking back up at her.

“Yes, I’m quite alright. If you could, send both camera angles to my email— I don’t recommend watching them.” 

Otsuka nodded. Tsukauchi took that as his leave. 

Walking back over to the scene of the death, Tsukauchi was met by the chief officer, Kenji Tsuragamae. His face was grim, Naomasa didn’t doubt that his own face was mirroring that expression. 

“I take it you saw the footage.” He said in place of a greeting, “what are we looking at here?” 

 

“The kid is alive.” 

“What?!” 

 

“I couldn’t get a clear read on the kid’s face, but I’m sure that if we test the blood we can find him pretty quickly. He’s a student at the school.” Naomasa sighed, as he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, “I can hardly believe what I saw but… the kid was able to run away from the scene. You’ll have to watch it yourself. It’s pretty gruesome though, so be careful.” 

“So he did…” Tsuragamae mumbled, “… and you think he could have survived this long without medical attention?”

“I think it was a quirk. That, or the kid is extra resilient. His face was too—too covered in blood for me to see any defining features.” Thay last part Tsukauchi spoke in a glum murmur, pain written clear in his eyes. Kenji stayed silent for a moment before he nodded. 

“Alright,” he spoke, “We’ll analyze the footage and get some forensic testing done. Anything else you saw?” 

“There are bloody footprints inside the building, could you make sure those get tagged? I’ve got—“ Tsukauchi’s phone began to ring, interrupting his report. With an apologetic look to the Chief, he pulled his phone out. Kenji nodded and walked off to another officer, speaking quietly enough. 

Tsukauchi made to move somewhere quieter, “Detective Tsukauchi speaking,” he walked a little further. 

“Hey detective,” Eraserhead greeted. Tsukauchi nearly dropped his phone. 

“Eraserhead? Why are you calling me?” Naomasa knew that Eraserhead wasn’t one to call at all, but on the off chance he did it was during the nighttime. Although, it was pretty early in the morning.

 

“Just wanted to give you a warning.”

 

A chill went through Tsukauchi and he whispered, horrified, “what?”

Eraser hung up the phone and Tsukauchi was stuck standing there, waiting for anything between a bomb and a surprise attack. The former seemed like the more correct assumption here though. 

A tapping on his shoulder alerted him to the person behind him. He flinched and flew away from the stranger, only to be face to face with Eraserhead. Eraser blinked groggily. 

“You—! Why would you—! Wait, you’re not supposed to be here! This is a crime scene!” Tsukauchi defended (a little weakly). 

“I can see that.” He deadpanned, “But technically I can be here—,”

“No, no no no you don’t. Don’t go using technicalities on me! This is a crime scene, there’s a boy missing, and you’re not supposed to be here.” Tsukauchi pointed out, “so what do you want?”

A brief look of realization passed Eraser’s face, “…a boy is missing?” one of his eyes squinted, mouth set in a grimace. A look most men recognize personally as ‘ohhh shit’.

“Yeah, there is— wait why are you looking at me like that.” 

 

~~~~~~

Notes:

Smile, even though your heart is breaking.
I’m putting Izuku through the wringer so no one else has to suffer. Midnight you’re safe girl!! You too everybody else! Izuku will take the hits for them bc… well…

Chapter 3: Mistakes for Dummies

Summary:

Izuku is a little hero! He needs a talk from a pro hero to realize this, however. Detective Tsukauchi is stuck between an All Might statue and a brick wall. (He’s in a tight place)

Notes:

WARNINGS: small gore elements, bad no good thoughts and thoughts of self harm.

So, Izuku managed to get away. 

 

Don’t ask him how, but he did it. Though he didn’t get as much rest as he would have liked, but it’s fine. This—this is fine. He has most of his stuff and he’s currently on a trek to an abandoned warehouse he scoped out quite quickly. No squatters, no traffic around it, and most importantly: people stayed far away from it. Maybe that was because the building had been abandoned after some deaths in the building. Izuku knew it was probably from hazardous chemicals and a high amount of asbestos, but all the more reason to test out how he was still alive! 

 

Was it gruesome to be excited at testing out his quirk? Maybe. But Izuku had better things to worry about. Walking into the warehouse, Izuku inspected everything. He had done this earlier in a much quicker fashion. The air was a little dusty but a little airing out would help that pretty quickly. The place was more like a shack than a warehouse, and beside it were dark alleyways that stretched into the depths of the city. The walls of the warehouse were graffitied, but not nearly as much as the outside of it. Previously, it was a place for trucks to come in and collect deliveries of goods (maybe furniture and tiles?) so it had a large garage opening where it faced the road. There was also a side door. There were some pallets strewn about as well as large unidentified deliveries that were left when it was abandoned. Tarps covered these box-shaped things, so Izuku didn’t mind what was in them. 

 

He set his things down in a dark corner of the room and just behind one of those boxes to hide it effectively enough. Before heading back out, Izuku armed himself with a pair of scissors he had taken from his moms old knife set. They were bulky but sharp enough to cut meat. He also made sure to shower and change before heading out. He had felt a little bad about not doing that the night before and sleeping in bed. 

 

Luckily, the blood had already dried before he went to bed so it left no stains on his All Might comforter. That’s an interesting thought, Izuku grimaced, to ever be leaving bloodstains on anything. One word Izuku neglected to say was “again” because it had happened before. Now though? It would be frequent. He had also taken the caution to change into a dark and baggy outfit before heading out. He didn’t own any plain black hoodies, so he had to choose between one with a simple All Might design on the chest or a very loudly designed Present mic one. It was for his radio show, Put Your Hands Up radio. While he loved Present Mic (really, he could go on for hours about him) he still held All Might higher in his heart. And his hoodie was darker than Present Mic’s… the PYHU radio hoodie was put back inside the suitcase. Sorry Mic. 

 

He headed out of the warehouse, mind running questions about his quirk on the back burner. I was a little hungrier than usual this morning, and I was pretty cold… And yesterday I was too out of it to think about the cameras properly, so maybe it also has something to do with cognitive function as a drawback? He pondered a bit more as he walked, hand over his mouth to stop himself from muttering. 

 

Then there was screaming.

 

Whipping around, Izuku located the sound to a thin alley between a bar and a store front. This is the bad part of town, I don’t see any heroes coming to help. The thought was cold, there’s no one to help them. 

 

Not if I can do anything about it. He was off like a bullet, running as fast as his legs could carry him before he came upon the scene. A guy— a little old and wrinkled— had his hands up and shaking his head. Next to him was a young woman with a bloody spot on the side of her head, knocked out cold. Two large guys dressed in all black blocked him in, shouting questions and statements at the poor man. 

 

“What were you doing here? You an officer?”

 

“No! No you know this part of town— I was just passing by! I saw nothing! Please… let me get my daughter home—!”

 

“I don’t believe you! What kinda grandpa goes around alleyways! You must be looking for trouble…” there was a dangerous edge to his voice this time. Izuku sucked in a breath and took a chance. 

 

“Hello?” He asked, as timidly as he could manage, “grandpa?” 

 

He was thirteen, what was he going to do? Fight them? Hell no! He was going to try and get the man out of the alley and his daughter without violence. To do that, he had to weaponize his young demeanor. 

 

The men turned around, recoiling at the noise. Izuku immediately clocked their quirks. Snake mutations, both of them. Must be a family business then. One man had the markings of a water snake while the other had viper characteristics, heads flat and long with tongues whipping out to scent the air. 

Izuku spoke again, putting on his best acting skills: “oh! Uhm— I’m sorry, was I interrupting? Or— aunty!” He made to scramble forward but the snake men hissed at him, he slumped back. “Grandpa— I went looking for you when you didn’t show up, is this… did you two get into some trouble?” He wrung his hands and allowed his eyes to tear up. (And no one would know that some of those tears were real)  The snake men seemed awkward after that. 

He looked up at the men, making sure to look extra pathetic. “Uhm— did they get into some trouble, sir? I-I understand if they did but… but I’m sure he and aunty didn’t mean it!” He sounded so disgustingly young even to his own ears. 

 

“Err…” the man he addressed was the viper-guy, “…eh, I guess not?” 

 

“Ah!” Now he smiled as brightly as he could, wiping away his tears with his sleeve, “thank you so much!! This was a shortcut home but there’s been so much going on lately— we’ll have to stay out of alleyways from now on.” 

He scrambled forward and past the two bewildered men. Thoroughly, he kept up the act. “Grandpa,” the old man turned relieved eyes toward the boy, “can you help me pick her up?” 

 

“Yes…yes, son,” he picked her up from under her arms while she stirred awake. Trying his hardest to get out of there quickly, Izuku asked the woman if she could walk. 

 

She blinked groggily, nodding. “Looks like we can walk her out, is that okay?” He looked up to the old man. 

The man smiled a little and supported his daughter on one shoulder, hobbling away with Izuku to lead the way.  The two men watched them leave, confusion written in their eyes. Izuku just kept walking. He walked until they were out of the alley and then walked a bit more. Eventually, he came to a stop. 

 

“…thank you,” the old man spoke, “for what you did. We couldn’t have made it out without you, you’re a real hero, kid.” 

Grief clawed and screamed at his heart. The smiling he was doing didn’t help, but it hid the grief pretty well. 

“Do you want to call an ambulance? Or get her to a hospital?” Every word was swallowed glass. I’m no hero yet, is what he wanted to say. But he prioritized. 

 

The man nodded, pulling out his phone. 

 

“Don’t worry about that,” a voice from the alley called and Izuku felt his heart freeze. “I’ve got it. Went ahead and called in the incident.” 

 

Turning, Izuku met the man’s eyes. He looked impossibly tired, his hair was disheveled and black, and his outfit looked like something out of a tactical store for the homeless. However, Izuku noticed his capture weapon, the quirk suppressant cuffs he was stuffing into his pocket, and the yellow goggles on his head. 

 

This guy was a pro hero. 

Izuku immediately let his shoulders fall. The guarded stance he had dropped and he turned fully around to meet the guy head on. An excited smile crawled up his face. 

 

“You’re a pro hero,” there was awe in his tone, but it wasn’t a question. It was a fact. 

 

The man’s eyebrows raised, “you got a good eye, kid. Pro hero EraserHead, and I’ll have to keep you and your daughter here a bit longer for a statement and for a ride to the hospital.” A breath, and a look at Izuku, “kid, I want to talk to you.” 

Izuku nodded. Eraserhead waved a hand to beckon Izuku forward and Izuku followed. He isn’t angry, Izuku smiled a bit more, he was surprised. 

“That was some impressive work you did there kid.” He turned to meet Izuku’s eyes again now that the man and his daughter were far away. “I watched you for a bit there, I got here after I saw you running in. You… knew you couldn’t fight them. What was your thought process here?” 

 

Izuku blushed, scratching his neck in embarrassment. “I saw the two guys cornering him— it was too dark to see what they were capable of but I knew they were twice my height… I couldn’t have fought them, so I did what I had to— to get the lady and her father out of there.” 

 

Now Eraserhead looked keenly interested, “so you de-escalated. You did something they wouldn’t expect.”

 

Izuku shrugged, “most people wouldn’t beat up teary-eyed kids. I-I just happen to fit the profile.” Oh I’m getting brave, he thought, all this attention is going to get to my head. Although, he was shaking like crazy. He couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline, the quirk, or the trauma. 

 

“You wanna be a hero when you grow up?” 

 

Ah, there it is. Right on the money Eraserhead. “Who—who doesn’t?” 

“Lots of people. That man and woman you saved for example. So, one more time, kid: do you want to be a hero?” Eraserhead held an air of sternness about him now, eyes flicking over Izuku’s face. Izuku didn’t like this line of questioning. 

“…I don’t think I can.”

“And why’s that?” Eraser shifted, frowning a little. 

“People like me just don’t get that chance, Eraserhead-San. The quirkless don’t get that chance.” 

 

“Kid…I— what were you doing here?” Now he’s starting to speculate, “where are your parents?” 

 

Flight—his one instinct— filled him. Police sirens started becoming louder in the distance and Izuku saw that as the perfect excuse to run. So he did so. 

 

Turning in his heel, he ran the other direction while Eraserhead yelled after him. Sorry, I can’t have a police record right now. It was nice to talk to an adult who didn’t immediately know what he was. It was… calming, almost. Is this how everyone else feels? It reminded him of the days before his diagnosis got out. Back when people liked being around him. Tears streaked his face as the nostalgia beat him bloody. 

I can’t go back. I can never go back. I’m dead— I should act like it. 

 

How stupid. How naive of him to think he had a chance at living in the first place. The real him died the night his mother stopped coming home, now that every kindness was taken from him. How could he ever think to live? I’m already dead. No, He’s dead— that sniveling quirkless kid with no one to be there for him. Now I’m just a dead kid walking. 

Izuku could swear his body was rotting. His muscles must be atrophied from being trapped underground for so long. But now? The part of him he buried is alive. The undead Izuku. He laughed, that has a ring to it! 

“I might be dead now,” he whispered to no one, “But my dream isn’t.” He had hope. Wasn’t that strange? After all of this— he still had hope. 

 

That conversation with Eraserhead made him realize something about himself. That day when his mother died, he didn’t die with her. No, no… He revived his dream. The one he buried so long ago with no hope of return. He had killed it in cold blood one day when the pressure was too much, but that wasn’t right. He lied to Eraserhead. Quirkless kids can be heroes, he smiled, but dead ones can’t. He saw it now, the light at the end of the tunnel. Quirkless Izuku can be a hero… I’m sorry you had to die to see that. But he was alive. He could pretend to be that kid, or at least a better version of him. 

Another problem arose when he was back at his old apartment. Do I have to go back to school? He hummed. Don’t they have online schools? No. He had to finish this year. Groaning, he went to clean his gakuran. 

Maybe, just maybe, they won’t catch me. If they do, I’ll just come up with a story. He breathed, I’ll just say that I ran because I saw another man. He… must’ve had a healing quirk because I’m quirkless. He absolutely knew they would give up the case if he said that. They could run with his story because there was no way he would magically gain a quirk. 

 

Yeah. Okay. He was already dead, it couldn’t get any worse than that. 

 

 

——— 

 

“Shit! What?!” Tsukauchi yelled. 

 

“I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was young— no parents in sight either. Wearing a hoodie and baggy clothes like he didn’t want to be recognized.” 

“What… what do we do? He won’t want to come back here.”

“All you can do is test the blood im seeing,” Eraser’s eyes slid over to the crime scene, “but other than that, there’s nothing we can do for the kid.” 

Tsukauchi nodded, head in his hands and still cursing. 

 

Eraserhead seemed to take a hint as he began to walk away, stopping only to look painfully at the blood. But then he was turning again. 

A forensics officer approached him. 

“Uhm. Detective?”

 

“…yes?” He looked up. Confusion and… something else he couldn’t identify was all over the woman’s face. 

“I’m going to bring in the samples now, we’ve already taken photos of the evidence too. Are you ready to go? It’ll take all day to clean the school and tomorrow we’ll get the tests back.” 

 

“Is something wrong?” 

 

“No no, I’m just— it just makes me miss my little boy.” She smiled, “poor kid…didn’t deserve this.” 

Naomasa agreed with her. 

 

 

——-

 

And the very next day, first thing in the morning, the forensics department head was at his desk. Naomasa greeted her and offered coffee, but she refused. 

“Detective Tsukauchi, I have some disturbing news,” she took in a breath, handing him the file she had probably just printed out, “we can’t match the blood to any student in that school. There were some students that were close, but it wasn’t close enough. The samples were perfectly okay but it’s— something strange was going on yesterday.” 

 

Naomasa’s eyebrows were in his hairline, “like what? This is strange enough, I’ll be honest.”

“When are you not,” she joked but her face was completely blank, “but I looked at the footage from yesterday— from the front door angle— and I saw the trauma from his head healing up. The bone stitched itself together, and the flesh we found on the ground was bits of brain matter. But it was… it was so strange. It’s— I found that the brain matter was still alive. We ran some experiments and it stopped working when the blood was extracted from it. The bits of bone we found? The marrow was still alive. The blood we found on the ground clotted and dried though.”

“Thats…” 

“Try Horrifying. It’s horrifying that someone out there can piece themselves back together like that. Kid or not, that sort of power…”

“It’s dangerous,” Naomasa nodded, “that’s true. Not to mention that the Public Saftey Hero Commission wouldn’t take too kindly to it.” 

“Quirks are evolving, detective…” 

 

She left it at that. She went back to her office while Tsukauchi looked over the file. Everything they discussed was in it but it was still sort of weird to Tsukauchi. I wonder if the boy came from a different middle school, he dropped the file down and sighed.  Was there anything they could do? 

~~~~~~~

Notes:

I want to make clear that Tsukauchi is kinda friends with Eraserhead. Only a little. Also I’m well aware that there are going to be some inaccuracies with how the school system works later on but let me make clear how much I do not care. It’s messed up just for trauma purposes

Chapter 4: Keeps Me waiting

Summary:

Izuku goes to school, but afterwards….

Notes:

WARNINGS: suicidal thoughts, blood, and suicide.

He got up that morning, he got dressed, he came to school. 

 

So why am I not arrested yet? 

 

He walked in and students were missing from class in droves. Katsuki’s cronies were gone, as well as a couple teachers… The school was opened back up but death tended to drive people away. Katsuki showed up though. 

 

As if on cue, Katsuki’s eyes zeroed in on him and he rocketed forward. Strutting straight for Izuku. 

 

“What the hell are you doing at school?! You— There was a damn crime scene here! I know aunty wouldn’t have allowed you to come to school today—!”

 

“I insisted.” Izuku said more coldly than he meant to. 

 

Katsuki’s eyebrow twitched and he stepped back. Confused and… nervous. Slowly, a smile crept into Izuku’s face— not the bright ones he used to wear, or one of fear. This one was empty amusement, one that didn’t reach his eyes. I can make Katsuki nervous.

 

“You— just— don’t fuckin’ come near me,” Katsuki turned away, sitting at his desk while pointedly ignoring Izuku. Izuku sat in his seat pleasantly, wiping the clean desk gently with a brush of his hand. 

 

This is nice, he brushed it again, a clean desk for once. Then the questions of what normal kids would feel everyday at school cropped up in the back of his mind. He shook them off. Their home room teacher finally walked in, sort of disheveled. 

 

She was an… interesting woman. Her quirk was called Light Bulb, as she could produce small orbs of light by gathering electricity and dispersing it. The intricate design of her quirk is something Izuku thought about occasionally. She had a certain control of electricity in her hands, and she had an immunity to electrocution. Aside from her quirk, she held back completely from mis-grading his papers. That might be from the fact that Izuku brought her a gift every Friday. It was small, but sometimes he would bring her a coffee or a bit of breakfast. She seemed to appreciate that. 

 

Today was not a Friday however. She looks terrible, I kind of feel bad for causing that. Once she got her desk in order, she addressed the room of few students. 

 

“Good morning, everyone,” her voice shook, “we have a guest here today who would like to talk to you all about what happened the other day. That activity is just before lunch, but uhm… I’ve been asked to give you a brief statement.” She shuffled her papers again. 

 

“If anyone has any information on what happened, they are being asked to call the anonymous tip line or to go straight to the police station to make a statement.” She pinched her nose, willing away either tears or a headache. 

 

Izuku was having thoughts of his own, though. Why is she so concerned about it? Did she… see what happened? He shook himself, no way! She would’ve at least reported it! Any other teacher— 

 

She looked at him. Glanced over and flinched. 

 

Oh. I see how it is. Izuku tried to smile kindly at her, hoping to god it was just an accident on her part. But no. The universe was never that simple, was it? She turned pale, face screwing up like she had seen a ghost before turning back to her desk. 

 

So she knows something. Choosing to air on the side of caution, Izuku took that as a sign for him to pay attention. She went on to hand out a simple math worksheet and sitting heavily in her seat once more. 

 

The rest of class passed pretty smoothly after that. Izuku made his move to pack his things once the bell rang. His home room teacher had the nerve to act relieved. He twisted toward her and set his course. 

 

“Miss Arashida-sensei! Could I talk to you for a moment?” He smiled nervously and ducked his head. True to her previous actions, her hands shook and she swallowed when he called her name.

 

“Yes, of course, Midoriya what—what did you want to talk about?” She refused to look at him. 

 

“You’ve been acting a little strange today, is everything alright? I-I mean, not that everything w-would be alright since…” he let his fidgeting hands speak for him, barely looking into her eyes. 

 

“Ah, uhm… well you see, I was there before the crime happened. And,” she cleared her throat, “I thought you were there, Midoriya… Were you there?” She seemed uncertain and frightened. 

 

Izuku’s eyes widened, “No! O-of course not! I’m still not s-sure what happened here but I c-can assure you that I was home with my mom!” He ignored the tightness in his heart at mentioning her. His hands came up and waved around like he could swat the accusation away. 

 

“Oh, I see. I—I guess I saw wrong then,” she brought a hand up to her head and smiled softly, “I really need some sleep…” 

 

Now that Izuku was closer, he could see the dark shadows under her eyes just peeking through her makeup. Izuku understood that feeling all too well. “P-please take care of yourself,” he bowed and rushed out. She let him leave, not even watching him scramble out of the door. 

 

I thought she was different. Izuku walked to his next class, heart shattered in his open palms. I thought she would at least care enough to do something about my body, or call someone. I was on the ground for several hours… she didn’t care. 

 

Since when was this a surprise? Why would she care about Deku? Useless, stupid, orphaned and abandoned little Deku? 

 

Deftly he wondered, would the outcome change if I died alone? He knew he would probably come right back. Useless quirk. 

 

 

————-

 

Nothing exciting had happened that day. Apparently, the police think they’re looking for someone at a different school. Izuku would have loved to know how they came to that conclusion, but he let the issue drop. They haven’t found out, and that’s all I need to know. Izuku let himself wander back into the alleys of his new home, looking down every street and dodging the eyes of others. 

 

The buildings here were all decrepit, possibly adding to the dark miasma that cling to the air. Plants were dead, people were halfway there, and Izuku was walking without a beating heart. All factual, he joked. But in all seriousness, his heart was still beating. Slowly, sluggishly, it struggled and beated a dead-man’s tune. He put his fingers up to his neck and counted his pulse. My heartbeat has halved. Izuku took that as a good sign for some strange reason. 

 

I should test out my quirk again. A thousand morbid decisions filled his head. Even though there’s only so much I can do by myself. The first thing he wanted to see was how he healed from his wounds. He continued down an alleyway that had a suspicious amount of bloodstains on the ground.

 

What happened here? He inspected the spatter. Droplets clung to the dusty concrete and sprayed against the alley wall. Izuku decided that he didn’t want to get murdered that day and turned in the direction of the warehouse. 

 

Along the way, cats meowed and hissed at him from their trash-homes. Izuku petted some of them as he passed by. Cats are nice, Izuku smiled. Some of them were still a healthy weight and liked to be scratched behind the ears. Other, less fortunate cats, hissed and spat if he came towards them. Starvation makes you hostile. 

 

When he made it back, he said hello to no one. Loneliness greeted him like an old friend. He didn’t respond back. Walking into the rats nest he had set up the other night, he collapsed onto it like a dead weight. Dark ceiling burned his eyes. 

 

Or maybe it was the tears. Fresh, angry tears ripped at his face. Mom… he sobbed, why can’t you be here? I don’t want to go on without you… I—I can’t… he clutched his chest, still in his school uniform. His backpack dug into his back and he sobbed again. Slipping it off, he threw it to the side. 

 

The loneliness is what got him. The silence and empty cold of a warehouse was so difficult for him. He was used to having her, used to being beaten down but still coming home to a warm hug… uselessly, he hugged himself. I won’t ever have that again. Grief was a truck and he was roadkill— under it he was crushed to nothing. I don’t know what I’m doing, a frustrated cry ripped from his throat, How will I ever be anything if she isn’t here? 

 

He felt like he was crawling in circles. It was grieving to hoping, over and over again. I have that fancy new quirk now, the realization came to him, I can end all this pain, at least temporarily. Izuku dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. NO! No! Stop being a coward! He huffed, I don’t even have…

 

Oh but I do. He had almost forgotten. His lip trembled, I brought that knife, didn’t I? It wasn’t a question. In the bottom of his bag was a small, shiny kitchen knife he had swiped from back home. Just below his mothers clothes, he stored it just in case. His hand shot out. 

 

The zipper was quickly undone and he was rummaging in the bag. The knife gleamed up at him below a yellow sweater. Mom, I’m so sorry. He grabbed it and set it aside, zipping the bag back up. I don’t know what else to do, his hand was back on it. Backing far away from his All Might blanket and other stain-prone things, he readied his hands. Maybe I can sleep peacefully for a bit. He took off his gakuran and his white shirt. A red, angry scar stared back. It burned to look at, marring his torso. I hope you aren’t watching, mom… carefully, he brought the slender knife down and aimed it at the soft center of his torso. 

 

His hands weren’t steady. Would they ever be? This was going to hurt. For how long? He didn’t know… then the tip pressed into his skin. Don’t think about it, just go. 

 

He stabbed it in and screamed in agony. White hot pain rushed through him and a slickness licked at his hands. When his vision stopped blurring so much, he saw the blood. The bullets of blood that seeped out dripped in the grown and he shuttered in a breath. He ripped the knife out and yelped again. Was that enough? 

 

His legs gave out, the knife clattered away from him. He tried to reach for it again, but his hands didn’t cooperate. That better be enough… I don’t have the strength to try again. His cheek pressed into the cold ground and he closed his eyes. A sort of cold embrace filled his veins when his eyelids finally fluttered shut. His heart was loud. It beat, and sputtered. 

 

And finally gave out. He was suffocating now. Blood spilled from his mouth and he could no longer think. His limbs tingled and fizzled out of existence and he couldn’t breath. He didn’t have the mental capability to wonder why he wasn’t unconscious yet. Finally, a ringing filled his ears. A final indicator of his last sliver of consciousness before his mind stopped responding too. 

 

Dying… kinda sucks. Was his last thought before that familiar darkness took him. 

 

~~~~~~~

Notes:

Lonely boy by the black keys
Short chapter this one! Also, I can see you guys reading this. I know I’m posting like 4 chapters In one day but to be fair I have a google doc with a bunch of chapters in it. These are just starters I’m posting. (Also, Izuku’s quirk DOES affect his cognitive abilities so he’s a little slow to catch on/feel things. Having a bit of constantly healing oxygen deprivation will do that to you!)

Chapter 5: Now I’m dead… and armed!!

Summary:

Izuku on his own! He arms himself and spends some time alone.

Notes:

WARNINGS: Self harm, suicide, violence, grief and past trauma

So, that sucked. Was his first thought when he came back to. 

 

It was also his first thought later in the week when he did it again. Eventually he came to the conclusion that dying made him less worried about school because he had no memory of what he learned in the days following his second death. Katsuki hadn’t bothered him at all… which was strange. But  School ended and he was free to do as he pleased now. 

 

Experimentation was his first thought. I’ve already bled out, and cracked my skull open from jumping, so what’s next? He had no rope, and no gun, and he really didn’t like the thought of wrapping a bag around his head… so maybe he could just find a gun? 

My stab wound left a small scar, Izuku felt around his head, and I’ve got these weird web-like scars going across my head. Izuku wanted to avoid getting a bullet scar right on his forehead… that would kind of ruin his life right now. There are criminals around these parts, so maybe I can coerce one from them. It wasn’t a plan in the slightest. 

But here he was, dressed in his hoodie and hunting for criminals. The city was silent just before night fell. Sparse amounts of people walked the streets and begged for change before they hid. The night was a death sentence if you get caught here. Shabby buildings with boarded windows lined the streets, broken glass thrown around them like confetti. A morbid little birthday party. Not that his birthday was close. 

A woman walked down the far end of the street and slid into a car, driving off somewhere. She went into the passenger side, sort of skinny and wore revealing clothes— cheap car too. Izuku concluded that she was a prostitute and grimaced. He felt bad for her and didn’t want to think about why she needed to resort to that. But it was none of his business and she seemed fine on her own. Izuku turned from where he was standing and went down another dark alley. 

 

The alleys between the buildings on the Main Street were close together, more like humid cracks between each one. Liquids, trash, and other unknown bits made contact with Izuku’s shoes. He tried his best not to gag. 

Finally, he heard the signs of a struggle. 

In the space in front of him, he could just barely make out a woman fighting for her purse. A lithe man was struggling with her, trying to kick her away even. Izuku rushed forward and watched the scene unfold.

 

“Come-on lady! Just let go!” He grunted, swinging his body around. Izuku took note of his torn and dusty flannel shirt and his ridiculous skinny jeans. He was maybe mid-twenties, and very tall. The woman was most likely not from this part of town. She had on a pencil skirt and a blazer, and the purse was more like a work bag. Izuku guessed her computer was in it. Steam rose off the woman and she spouted it in the direction of the man. 

“Why should I?!” She huffed another stream at him. The man let go and pressed his hands onto his slightly cooked forehead. Glaring at the woman who was now booking it, he reached into his arm and pulled out a gun. 

Izuku blinked, is his quirk the ability to store things? The woman screamed when he pointed it at her. 

“I didn’t want to do this! Just—just hand it over or you’re getting shot!” His voice was trembling. 

 

Izuku automatically knew that this guy was a coward. Even as a petty thief, this guy stole from people and ran. The gun was probably more threat than action on his part. 

 

The woman stopped and put her hands up. Izuku sighed and shook his nerves away, looking for something to use as a weapon. Apparently, some god out there was giving him good luck today and bestowed upon him: rusty pipe! He was also lucky enough to run into a guy with a gun. Rolling his shoulders and picking up the newfound weapon. 

The guy froze as Izuku strolled into view. 

 

“Hah?? Who the hell are you?!” He whipped his gun to point at Izuku. Quickly realizing his idiocy, he whipped it back to the woman. Izuku wanted to sigh again. 

Weighing his nonexistent options, he walked towards the guy. The thief freaked out and turned the gun back to Izuku.

“I asked you who you were!!” He was panicking now. 

Izuku smiled, “what, you think I’m seriously going to answer that?” He huffed, swinging the pipe around to test its weight. The man’s eyes darted down to the weapon. 

Rushing forward, Izuku darted to the right and out of the gun’s range. Coming forward, he got close enough to see the red marks left over from the woman’s attack before throwing ghe pipe at the guy’s head. The guy let a shot go off before the pipe hit and he promptly collapsed from the wicked throw. 

 

Izuku wished the shot had missed it’s target. I mean, come on— I really don’t need this right now…. The “this” he was talking about was the fresh bullet wound in his leg. He ground his teeth down and suppressed a full-on scream when it finally registered in his brain. The woman cried out and ran forward, asking if he was okay and looking wearily down at his leg. 

“Call… The police…” he said around pants and waves of pain. The woman nodded and took her phone out, dialing the number and staring at Izuku. 

 

Izuku addressed his leg. Wow, thats uh… Really bleeding, huh? Blood sluggishly poured down his leg and another wave of pain hit him. I’m gonna pass out, his vision blurred, but I need to grab that gun. Izuku staggered forward. Each step left pain shooting through his bones and made the blood rush faster down his leg. The horrible noise of his blood squelching against his shoes left him nauseous. 

Finally, he reached the gun and swiped it up. He stuffed it into his All Might hoodie and staggered away. The woman tried to call out after him but he just shook his head. 

This sucks a lot, his leg was starting to burn. I hate that feeling, top ten worst feelings I swear. Although, Izuku knew that if he lost enough blood his whole body would feel a lot colder. The burning persisted. Every step was pure agony— tingling and jostling his wound further. 

 

He walked, and struggled… until he was within sight of his warehouse. The burning continued through his whole body, and now his limbs all felt heavier. He was breathing shallowly, his left arm was now tingling and unresponsive. Izuku stumbled and caught himself. 

 

Just—just a couple more steps, I can die there but not here! His vigor renewed, he stumbled faster. Now at a rusted door, he busted it open with his shoulder and fell onto the cold ground. He shouted and sobbed. 

Come on, come on! He crawled, his hand clasping the concrete and hoisted himself further in, allowing the door to swing shut. 

Blood loss sucks… he thought, making a serious understatement. He watched as the hole in his pants— which showed marred flesh too— seeped out more blood but didn’t go cold yet. This is taking too long. With shaking fingers, he gripped the gun in his pocket. Why is it so heavy? Ugh, probably the blood loss… he held the gun up and made sure it connected with the side of his head. The metal was cold and unforgiving against his scalp.

 

This better work. He thought and squeezed the trigger. 

 

———-

 

 

“What… the hell?” He mumbled. Getting up, he winced at the headache that now spiked through his skull. 

He didn’t feel as light headed as last time, but now he had a killer headache in its place. Izuku looked down at his leg, blinking at the closed wound and the startling lack of blood. There were bits of white bone around him and a small glob of flesh, but the blood was… sparse. The puddle was smaller than he knew it to get. 

 

Wait… it dawned on him, do my wounds only heal after I’m dead? He had a theory about it before, but the blood loss route only gleaned so much information when you didn’t know how long you were out for. Maybe they heal immediately after… after my heart stops? He hummed, and when my heart stops I kinda have no choice but to go unconscious… but it seemed off. My heartbeat has slowed significantly, would that have something to do with my healing? He sat up fully and got to his feet. Groaning, he shuffled over to his analysis notebook. Grabbing a pencil and settling down, he flipped to his own page. 

There was no drawing on his page. Only the words “Resurrection?” On the top of the page. His previous notes told him that he was left with a scar from every death. The pain stops after Resurrection, he wrote, gun-shot wounds are very efficient. He tapped his pencil against the page. Wounds start healing after the heart stops; more information needed. 

A little unsure he wrote, Fatal and non-fatal wounds heal. Side effects are still minimal, headaches and slight weakness are noted. Drowsiness as well. He wrote down the last one after a large yawn, tears prickling his eyes. Quickly checking the time on his alarm clock, he noted again, Time between death and waking has slightly decreased. He was mostly guessing on that one. Bleeding out would cost him 3-4 hours, while large scale trauma was 6 hours at the least, and two gunshot wounds was a little less than three hours. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of blood I’m losing… he yawned again. Or maybe the time is decreasing the more I do it. Izuku scrubbed his eyes, then being bothered by the blood on his hands. 

Still messy, he sighed. The blood crusted around his hair and his hands, right around when he tried to stop the blood from flowing out of his open wound. Gently he poked the side of his head. The scar is smooth, a little sore. It stung a little like a bruise when he pressed it but otherwise felt fine. It always feels so weird after I die… like everything is put on hold. 

His pain was gone, but so were his emotions. They delayed themselves for just a moment and his brain was covered in a fog that only allowed him to think along one track. It was relief, but it was also scary. To know that he could come back but everything that made him feel human was taken for a while. He couldn’t feel the loss in his heart or the hole that his mom left when he couldn’t hear her voice again. It was like he put himself on autopilot. I don’t remember what she sounds like, that thought left him with no tears. Everything he touched was just pressure in his hands, no texture or pain. Only tingling— a knowing feeling that something was happening. 

 

He hated it. 

 

Izuku laid down on his makeshift bed on the floor, eyes unfocused and mouth dry. He dug one of his fingers into the scar on his thigh but he ultimately felt nothing. He closed his eyes. I need to sleep, sleep would do me some good. 

 

…

 

“Izuku! Breakfast is ready!” 

 

Izuku woke up with a jolt, sitting straight up and clenching his shirt. He blinked away the sleep and sniffed the air. He smelled fried eggs and toast. He smiled, rising out of bed and walking into the living room. He knew his mom started making fried eggs when Izuku asked for them on his 12th birthday, stating that he wanted to have an American breakfast like All Might. Of course, All Might also endorsed protein waffles and a weird yellow syrup that wasn’t the same in Japan due to dye restrictions… but that was enough All Might trivia for Izuku today. 

 

His mom usually liked the more traditional meals due to her parents. Izuku didn’t care what she made, though, as it all tasted delicious if she made it. He rushed into the kitchen and saw eggs and toast waiting for him. A smile stretched across his face. 

 

“You look excited today! I’m glad, you’ve been so down lately…” she set down some coffee for him, worry etched in her voice. Izuku saw a glimpse of her hand and her yellow sweater, along with her glass-beaded bracelet that clinked when her hand moved. He smiled wide again, looking up at her. 

 

“Of— uh?” She wasnt there. Izuku blinked, looked around, and peered into the kitchen. “Mom? Where did you go?” 

 

“You know where I went, Honey.” Izuku didn’t recognize her voice. It was warbled and flat, but slightly soft and worried in a way her voice always was. Izuku… didn’t know if that was her voice at all. 

 

“Mom? Mom can you come back? I— where are you?” He was scared now. He looked back to the kitchen only to see the light was off and morning light streamed through the window. The pans weren’t out or in the sink, the coffee maker was unplugged and no pot was there. had it always been like that? 

 

He couldn’t smell the breakfast anymore. He glanced down and saw a completely empty counter… his hands were covered in something. He lifted them from the empty counter and stared at the red liquid that caught in the morning light. 

 

“What?” The lights weren’t on in the house at all, “mom? Mom where are you! Mom I— please mom!” He saw dust particles in the air, nothing moved. 

 

“I can’t come back Izuku… you’re breaking my heart Izuku, you keep— keep hurting yourself.” Her voice was choked up but Izuku didn’t know if she was talking at all or if it was just wind in his ears. Again, he couldn’t recall her voice. 

 

Izuku looked down at himself. His hands were pale and bruised on the back where the blood didn’t cover. His shirt was torn through with stab wounds and blood poured from them. He was shaking and bleeding and he could smell her perfume. Tears fell from his eyes and washed the blood on his hands. 

 

He gasped and covered his stomach. This was his sleep shirt— the one his mother found from a thrift shop that was soft from years of use. He could smell her perfume and he was sick. The room was darker now, damp even. A long kitchen knife sat on the counter in front of him, right where his breakfast had been. 

 

He felt so nauseous. He coughed and gagged, throwing up over the side of his chair at the counter. Blood splashed against the floor. The kitchen knife was coated in blood and he knew it was his. Then he noticed his arms. 

 

They were pale and clammy, clean slices lined his arms and the blood didn’t dry. He could see the wounds so clearly and he threw up again. He couldn’t feel his heart beating but his consciousness didn’t fade at all. 

 

Why won’t it heal? 

 

“Heal… just—close up… I-i can’t…” he pleaded when the blood was too much to hold in, as it completely soaked through his striped pajama pants. It was wet and uncomfortable, warm and cold at the same time. It stuck to his skin and made his flesh feel frozen solid. 

 

He felt helpless. He was so scared and ashamed— he couldn’t move. It was so cold… so so cold and her perfume was fading. His teeth were chattering now. 

 

“Mm—mom? Mom p—please please where did you go?” His breath was visible in the air. 

 

“You’re getting too close Izuku, you need to stop.” She wasn't angry. Izuku felt the words and heard the sound but no one was speaking. He felt her talk but it wasn’t real. “Stop before death stops staying… I can’t watch you hurt anymore…” 

 

Her hands wrapped around his hand and peeled them away from his wounds. Izuku sobbed in relief, her hands providing some warmth back to his frozen form. She held his hands tightly, rubbing circles on his knuckles. Then, she pulled him in and hugged him. 

 

He felt warm again— human again. He felt like he did before she died and he couldn’t help but grip her sweater and cry. The lighting changed and Izuku saw the walls and tile of a hospital room. He didn’t let go— he recognized this room. 

 

The doctor sat in front of them with no expression, hands clasped together. 

 

“I—I’m not q-quirkless,” he mumbled, tongue heavy and too big to speak around. The doctor opened his mouth and Izuku screamed. 

 

“I’m sorry Izuku… I’m so sorry…” 

 

It burned. It burned so bad and he screamed for help— for anyone. He felt so helpless. His flesh was cooking and his eyes whited out from the pain but nothing would heal. The blood wouldnt stop and—and— his mom was still hugging him. Her perfume was right on his nose. 

 

But that wasn’t what she sounded like. 

 

“MOM STOP! Stop!! Pl—please stop it hurts—it hurts…” he woke up sobbing. He was sitting upright with arms clutching his middle— arms free of blood and still in his black hoodie. He breathed and hiccuped, finally looking around with some clarity. 

 

It was a dream. It was only a dream. 

There was no pain. No searing, blinding pain. But the memory was so real he couldn’t stop crying and shaking. His heart beat wildly in his chest while his brain couldn’t stop racing. At the same time he couldn’t think. It was just— it was a mess of emotion and crippling memories that made him so shocked. He reached his hand up to clench his hair, trying his best to get a hold of himself. 

“Unh— what…” he mumbled and felt around his fresh bullet-shaped scar. Before, there was no hair around the wound and it felt tender to the touch. But now there was hair. He could still feel the rough scar tissue, but hair was growing through it like he hadn’t destroyed the hair follicles just moments before. It wasn’t tender either. He didn’t have an explanation for why. 

 

He wasn’t tired anymore either. Maybe my body didn’t have enough time to heal when I died? Two gunshots might have been too much… but then does that mean my heart stopped while I slept? How does that work? Endlessly frustrated by his cheat of a quirk, Izuku got up and rummaged through his bag. I need my sewing kit and I can’t let blood ruin a perfectly good hoodie. 

His luck decided it was time to leave, as the sharp edge of the kitchen knife fell from its predetermined pocket in his luggage and into the clothes. Izuku yelped when he finally noticed the knife had mixed into the clothes. He stared at it for long moments, vaguely recalling the same knife from his dream sat upon the counter like his breakfast was. Carefully, Izuku slipped it out and put it on the floor beside his clothes. I have something in mind for you later. 

He reached for the sewing kit and closed his bag. He opened it and got out some thread, closest to the color of his sweatpants, and wheedled it through the eye of the needle. He tied it and took his sweatpants off, folding one leg inside-out and sliding the needle in. He continued his stitches until the hole was closed before slipping the pants back on. 

The task was nice, distracting even. 

 

Now time for experiment 3, he reached for the knife. He was a little scared of the pain but… he survived death so many times, so he might as well see what would happen. He readied the edge against the back of his hand and sliced a small cut against it, holding his hand out so the blood would drip only onto concrete. 

The pain was surprisingly minimal. Maybe I’m building up a tolerance? All questions for later. 

He watched the wound intently, the dream still fresh on his mind. The blood beaded down and fell in slow drops and splattered against the floor. A small pit pat that kept him company. The blood slowed and Izuku twitched. 

Heal it, he pushed, if you can come back from a bullet you can at least do this. Izuku had no idea what the activation requirement was but he closed his eyes and searched for something—anything. He listened and felt. In the center of his chest he couldn’t feel his heart beat. It was slow, methodical, sort of a ticking and less of a heartbeat than it should be. There must be something there, if I can focus hard enough. 

 

Izuku had a theory about some quirks, those that activated without a persons knowledge. Like being able to feel people’s emotions or being unable to stop your voice from being loud. That bit was from an interview with Present Mic— how he was able to control his quirk in his younger years. He had said he wasn’t able to control it at all, it was a part of him and switching it off wasn’t something he could do until middle school. There was an amount of control he could put on it, but if he unfocused that control… he could feel where the power was, remembering what it was like to not have that power before. He said it felt like a buzzing in his voice, so he tried speaking by suppressing the buzz. Some people even compared it to speaking with a funny voice or relaxing muscles you didn’t know were stiff. 

Izuku didn’t really know what that meant but he would try. If Izuku was anything; he was dedicated. But hey! If I figure this out, I can probably add to Present Mic’s page! That had him feeling a little less hopeless. Maybe… maybe if I get through this I can pass it off as a self-healing quirk. He smiled, and I can be a hero… his heart pounded again and he flinched. But he kept pressing. 

He could feel something. He opened his eyes but quickly shut them, this is good! If I can do this, I won’t bleed out like in my dream. He was pushing something, his efforts brushed against something and it throbbed and hurt. He gasped but kept on. He pushed and pushed, like digging his heels into a raw nerve. Should— should it hurt this much? Sweat dropped down his face. He felt sick. 

 

CHHRC—!

 

His concentration broke and he swallowed down the bile that tried to crawl up his throat. What was that? He looked down at his hand. It wasn’t healed— the blood had stopped and it had scabbed over, but it didn’t scar. 

Was that progress? He huffed, standing up on uncertain legs. I have to wash the blood off first, and the blood on my head and leg… he glanced down the warehouse, and all over there too. 

Jaw set, he made his way out of the warehouse and towards a neighboring building. There was a tap there that a hose used to attach to, but nobody had used the tap in forever. It was wedged between a dumpster and a fire-escape. Not a very good place for a tap. He had found it by snooping around the warehouse just days ago, marking where it was just in case. 

I won’t be drinking this water, but it’ll at least be good to wash away blood with. Izuku didn’t like his own line of thinking, but he shrugged on. He searched around the side of the building for something to hold water in and came up with a Gas station cup that looked a little decrepit, but it didn’t have any holes so it was now Izuku’s decrepit gas station cup. He turned on the tap (which let out a horrible creaking noise, rust buildup) and washed the cup out in the low-pressure water. 

“This isn’t sanitary but… wounds are closed so it’ll probably be fine.”He filled the cup and rolled up his pant leg, pouring the lukewarm water down his leg. Making sure to scrub off any dried bits as well. He splashed the water over his hand once his leg was clean and felt satisfied there. 

Now, the hard part. He bent over, freshly filled cup in hand, and poured it over his head. Tragically, part of his hoodie was caught in the process. The ends of his hoodie strings dropped water and Izuku made a sort of fish face when the water passed his hair. Reddish water coated the ground and Izuku pinched his hair in one hand. Still a little bloody… he filled the cup and did it again, scrubbing his hair thoroughly. Another cup of water later and he deemed his hair clean enough. 

Squeezing the ends of his hair, Izuku’s mind wandered back to his dream. I miss her a lot, but what was that? He was well aware of how dreams were nothing but thought-vomit, but it did give him some good merit to test out his quirk. Then, he thought about that noise before his hand scabbed up. It sounded like flesh, a very wet sound— kind of popping even. It was a little faint though. Mumbling, he headed back inside the warehouse. 

It was well into the morning hours when he checked his clock again. Today’s been really eventful. He sighed while pulling of his hoodie and replacing it for the Present Mic radio show hoodie. Down the sleeves there were purple checkered designs and the front held the Logo for Present Mic’s show. It was newer than the All Might one so the print was brighter, Izuku smiled down at it. Maybe I’m a bit partial to blonde heroes, he thought of Auntie Mitsuki, maybe just a little bit. 

Also, the yellow color brought him comfort. The sunflower and bright yellow that each hero showed felt like finding treasure in the thick of it, a feeling of comfort. I wonder if they know. That they’re my mom’s favorite color. It brought tears to his eyes but he scrubbed them away. No time for crying! Gotta get out there! 

 

Today’s mission: find a job! 

 

~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

Please comment… I’m so lonely…
I’m still writing the story even if I have up to ten chapters already written, so pretty please! I’m not a deadbeat I swear!!

Chapter 6: Finding work

Summary:

Izuku finds work? Hey, doesn’t this operation seem kinda shady to you?

Notes:

Warnings: not really much. Some grief, maybe some mentions of his quirk. Mentions of illegal activity and illegal substances

It wasn’t easy to find work as a 13 year old, Izuku will tell you that much. Shady operations sometimes wanted to reel him in when he poked around, but he ultimately had to decline. No thank you, no child experiments or whatever else you need a kid for here… I’m good. So he kept searching. 

 

The place he was searching for jobs in wasnt the best by any means… but it was about the only place where people would actually hire a 13-year old without asking too many questions or—god forbid— needing a parent to sign off on it. Or an administrative office. And he didn’t want them following the laws to the letter either. All I ask is a little illegal leeway— not the entire full 9 yards of illegally hauling drugs!! That last bit came to him when someone asked him if he was willing to load some “cargo” for cash— tempting, if it weren’t for the fact that the cargo was pounds of drugs. He politely turned that one down. 

 

I really want to keep all of my fingers, no matter how much I’d like to find out if my quirk can regenerate whole fingers or not. The next job was a little less shady. This job came to him on a little flier— ‘looking for work?’ It said, totally not baiting the poor. 

 

It’s too bad that I am the poor. I’m totally being baited right now. There was a logo on the flier of a smiling orange peeking over a horizon like the sun, and the logo had a brand name printed in English under it. Izuku suspected the entire brand was fake, but he had to check it out. The pay was around ¥2000 per hour, which made Izuku almost compelled to check out the job. (¥2000 is about 13 usd at this time) 2000 Yen is so much better than none at all… oh well, what’s it gonna hurt? 

 

He continued reading. Job: loading boxes of product into trucks, near that totally not suspicious location just south of some docks. Any help wanted. Okay. So maybe they knew their audience. They were out here posting a job in the poor part of the city where crime was the highest, so of course they knew their audience. Groaning, Izuku made his way to the site. 

 

On his way (which was not far at all) he considered several reasons why having money was important. First of all: food. While his little stash of foodstuffs from the apartment could last him a good while, food was something that he absolutely needed to focus on. Next was small necessities for his continued health, like clothes when his got too ragged and a toothbrush when his needed replacement. Toothpaste, places to shower, and other such things. He decided that what money is left over from food he can put in there. 

 

And finally, if he ever gets there, a small portion of spending money. That dream of his mother reminded him of amenities that didn’t come with life— they were luxuries that Izuku just couldn’t afford at the moment. He had packed up as much as he could from the apartment (even the TV, which he’ll put to good use) and stored it all in the warehouse under a sheet. But he needed to find a way to get electricity and a hot plate. Already, he’s listing items that he would need to continue a semi-livable life. 

 

Izuku couldn’t legally buy an apartment or keep rent with the wage he has. Which is nothing. But he can at least make his situation more livable. Doing research at a public library would probably do some good, especially if I want to figure out how to get electricity and the like. After he got a job, he would start worrying about school. 

 

He let his thoughts conclude as he came up to a small office block, near the edge of it were a couple of people loitering and occasionally wandering back into the employee exit. Walking up, Izuku’s eye caught on a design from one of the worker’s shirts. Izuku walked up a bit further, making sure his hood is pulled down. 

 

“Hello!” He greeted. One woman turned towards him and dusted her jeans, adjusting the cigarette in her mouth and blowing smoke away from Izuku. 

 

“What’s up, kid?” She greeted back. 

 

“I was wondering if you knew anything about this flier?” He pulled the flier up for all to see, “I’m looking for work right now.” 

 

Izuku would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. Or anxious. Or really any other emotion right now. The woman— who had bright blue hair and blue fading into her skin in her nose and fingers— nodded at him and dropped her cigarette. She put it out with her boot and walked up to Izuku. 

 

“Yeah, we work for them,” she grinned, “and why’s a kid like you looking for work?” Obviously, she knows the answer to that one. 

 

Making up his poor little backstory on the spot, Izuku responded: “I want to help my mom out with the bills, and I’m sure you know the area well enough…” he tapered off, letting the woman fill in the blanks. 

 

She seemed to be considering it before shrugging and pointing at the flier. “You gotta be able to lift boxes and haul ‘em to a truck, you sure you can do that?” 

 

“If I can get paid, I’m sure I can do just about anything.” 

 

“Ha!” The woman guffawed, “yeah I get you, alright, that flier’s got the location but we got work for you today if you don’t wanna start tomorrow.” 

 

Izuku nodded, “I can do today.” 

 

“Great! We start pretty early and end shift at five, so you’ve got about 4 hours ahead of you. There’ll be a weekly schedule posted every Monday, so look out for that.” She began to stroll off while waving for Izuku to follow her. 

 

He scrambled forward. “We sometimes do midnight runs, those are posted too if you’re interested in taking them. Not mandatory though. I mean, the job isn’t strict. All you gotta do is move some boxes and leave when you get paid, if you don’t show up one day it ain’t really any of our business.” She continued to stroll to a closed off location, looking up and down roads every now and then. 

 

Once they arrived, Izuku took a good look around the place. It was a long and spacious warehouse with garage doors on each end, trucks with wooden railings on the back and painted a cheerful red pulled in and waited for the bed to be filled before driving off. Every window was tinted in each car and some looked old and chipped. Boxes on pallets formed a small line on one side of the warehouse closer to where the trucks pulled in. The warehouse stretched on for longer than Izuku could reasonably assume and the roof curved in a half circle. Izuku and the blue-haired woman came in through a door on the other side of the warehouse.

 

She directed him to a table set up right beside the door with an ancient looking device on it. Next to it was a tiered file-holder with pastel yellow papers in about the same size as receipts, each with a varying amount of holes punched out of them. The woman produced a fresh sheet of paper and a pen, holding them out for Izuku. 

 

“Go ahead and write down something to identify that as your paper— don’t gotta be your name, we aren’t in the business of asking questions here.” 

 

Izuku took the pen, ignored the questioning glance at the cut on his hand, and wrote down “green”. The woman took the paper when he offered it back and poised it above an opening in the machine. 

 

“This is our hour counter, you put in your paper like so,” she pushed it in until she couldn’t push it in further, “and then you crank this thing on the side. That’s what punches in the holes, but don’t be too rough with it. Don’t really know how it’s going to fall apart, but it’ll be one of these days. This thing counts the hours and punches the hole you walked in with.” 

 

When she pushed the lever on the side down, the hole-puncher let out a soft “ding” and the lever rattled back up to its starting position. The lever was a white plastic that was quickly yellowing with age. She pulled his paper out and pointed at where the hole was, which was right below a number 1 in a circled spot. Izuku guessed that the papers were just as vintage as the machine if they matched up so well. 

 

“When they call shift just come back up and punch your card again, they’ll count your hours and pay you.”  She sent Izuku on his way. 

 

There were only five people stacking the boxes. Some helped move the pallets around and others helped with putting the boxes in the truck. Izuku stepped forward and grabbed a box, following the previous worker’s lead and stacking it neatly in the back of the truck. One worker raised an eyebrow at him but kept on. 

 

Two of the people looked homeless, tattered and patched clothes, dirty and a little unhealthy looking. The rest looked to be lower-middle class, probably just out of a job or needed the money. Most of them had interesting signs of a physical quirk. One with hair that spiraled upward, one with webbed fingers, another with a full mutation that gave them a spider-like appearance and an extra set of arms, and one with eyes that were completely pink. 

 

One of the workers approached him— the man with the webbed fingers— and waved. “Hey!” He said, “it’s nice seeing some new workers around here, but you look kinda young.” He picked up another box and pushed it into the truck. Izuku followed suit. Work and talk, I can do that.

 

“Wanted to help my mom out with the bills,” these boxes are heavier than they look, his hands wobbled for a moment. 

 

“I feel that, yeah. Gets tough on single mothers out here— my mom had the same problem.” 

 

Izuku raised an eyebrow at his correct guess but shrugged, “it’s the least I can do.” 

 

“How’d they allow you to work here anyway? No offense, but you look… young.” Maybe stop being so concerned, Izuku sighed, why can’t you just do your job and stop asking questions. 

 

“They said they needed the help, and I can just run and hide if any cops come knocking. Not that they would.” Having a conversation with this guy felt like stepping around bombs. 

 

One guy who was wearing one of those grey shirts with the orange logo, gave the webbed-handed man a stern look. Probably trying to tell him to stop being so nosy. Sorry, guy, but I have better things to worry about. The webbed guy paused and mumbled a small apology before getting back to work. 

 

…

 

By the end of Izuku’s shift he felt achy and exhausted. Although, his hands felt warmer than before and his mind wasnt so sluggish. When he punched his card, the employee that stayed counted his hours and paid him. Izuku pocketed the money. He knew that if he looked at the money now, he would get too starry-eyed than he would’ve liked to in front of strangers. He had already done the math in his head. And the math told him it was more money than he had held before. 

 

When he had left the warehouse and headed back to his makeshift home, it dawned on him. 

 

He was excited. 

 

For the first time since his mother died, he was feeling excited about his future. Hope was different, this was… he felt alive. Tears watered in his eyes, then he was feeling guilty. How— how can I ever feel this happy when my mom is gone? What am I doing? He clenched his teeth. I don’t deserve to be happy like this— she’s gone and I can never live the same. My life is practically ruined, I died last night, I’m thirteen and I have a job and no home. I shouldn’t be happy and she is gone. 

 

He couldn’t stop the tears now. They stung his eyes, hurting him further. It wasn’t just his muscles that ached, but his heart too. He put his hand on his pulse and counted. It helped to calm him down while he checked his heartbeat for any notes to add to his own page. But he let the tears trail down his face anyway, burning salty streaks down his cheeks. 

 

My heartbeat has increased, probably from the work. He was still crying though, maybe that’s why I feel better. Izuku knew deep down that he didn’t want to feel better. That he didn’t deserve to. A good life was just not in the cards for him… not since he lost his mom. 

 

She was his hero— the light in his life. When he came home from a day of relentless bullying, considering every dark option; she would smile. That’s all it took. A smile, a welcome, and a good hug. She was what kept him going every day. Without her, he would’ve jumped so much sooner. Without her, Izuku did jump. But now that everything he loved was ripped from him he was granted a quirk that made it impossible for him to rest. It was cruel. 

 

One day at a time. He promised himself, and then I can be a hero, just like my mom. It was going to be difficult. It was already hard enough to get himself to accept that fact, but he had to do it. To show the whole world who she was and her hard work. He would become a great hero for her— and then for the whole world. If nothing can kill me then it can only make me stronger. 

 

Feeling less sad and more determined, he strutted into his warehouse. He walked himself down from a ledge. That promise was one thing he could hold onto when life wanted to drown him in the currents of grief. So he took a moment to gather his thoughts, take a breath, and scrub the tears from his face. 

 

Walking over to his bed, he pulled out his pay for the day. 8000 yen for his work. His eyes sparkled and he let a small smile come to his face. Everything’s looking up, even if the job is a little shady! 

 

He put his pay away and pulled off his hoodie. He took a good look at his wound and pressed on the thin scab. I wonder if it’ll be healed tomorrow, yawning, he decided it was best to catch up on some sleep. he scooted under his covers, goodnight, mom. 

……

Notes:

Subtle foreshadowing

Chapter 7: ...dammit.

Summary:

Turns out he was right... Ugh.

Notes:

Sorry about not updating sooner! College classes and all WARNINGS: drugs, thoughts of death, some grieving

Remember how Izuku thought the job was a little shady? 

 

Yeah, turns out it was 100% shady. Like if the entire criminal underground gathered together and sold substances the entire day— because that’s what was happening! So here he was, dialing up the police tip-line and waiting for the gavel to strike. 

When did he figure this out? Just a day ago. Just one day! After working there for weeks it finally happened— someone dropped a box and strange black suitcases fell out. 

 

“What… is that?” The webbed-handed man (who told Izuku his name was Funamizu) carefully picked up the suitcase, fear written large on his face. 

 

Izuku clicked it open quickly, looking inside before shutting it again and instructed Funamizu to put it back. The man did, pulling it back into the box and closing it, setting it into the truck where it belonged. But of course, Funamizu had questions. 

“What was in it?” He whispered conspiratorially to Izuku. Izuku shot him a look but leaned in while pretending to struggle with a box. 

 

“Meet me outside the building after our shift, I’ll tell you then.” 

That only seemed to warrant more fear in Funamizu. He gulped, then nodded. Picking up a box, Funamizu tried to mind his own business. 

 

Izuku felt his veins grow cold. Didn’t I say this whole thing was fishy? Why is this a surprise? But he knew why. He got involved in an illegal operation and he knew it. 

 

After their shift, Funamizu approached Izuku just outside of the building while looking as suspicious as he possibly could. Izuku frowned. 

 

“Funamizu-San! You said you wanted to show me that new diner up town, right?” He exclaimed, trying for all the world to look innocent. Funamizu looked like he wanted to protest— Izuku glared at him. Funamizu closed his mouth, opening it again, all the while looking a lot like a fish. 

 

“Er— yeah, yeah… let’s go!” Funamizu rushed them along but Izuku led them into a corner just out of sight from the building. 

“What did you see?” Was Funamizu’s immediate question. 

 

“Three syringes— they were filled with this weird red liquid. I’m assuming it was a new drug.” Izuku whispered back to him, “no wonder they had so many boxes for us to pick up— they packaged it all stupidly wrong! I mean, you could’ve just packaged the vials and be done with it!” He huffed. Ranting about drug packaging wasn’t exactly his best idea. 

 

Funamizu looked horrified, “seriously?! We’ve been hauling drugs this whole time?!” Izuku shushed him. 

 

“Yes! We have!” I’m such an idiot, “Now what do we do?” 

“We— we could call the police?” The suggestion was weak on Funamizu’s part. 

 

“Okay, then they get busted and we walk home free—No! If we just call up the cops we’ll get killed!” I’ll be fine but you won’t! “Wait…” Izuku blinked. That might just work…

“Do you have an idea?”

 

“I— maybe? It might be stupid but it’ll keep you and the others out of harms way.” He crossed his arms, expression pensive. “How about I call the police. When I do—and you’ll know when I do— tell them that I looked inside one of the boxes and snuck off or something. Just— anything to get them on my tail. You guys will be off the hook and all you have to do is put in a good act.” 

 

“But if these guys are who we think they are—,” 

“They are criminals.”

“—then they’ll try and kill you! They— they’ll find your mom, Suiu-San… I can’t— I don’t want to be responsible for your mom losing a son, either.” His eyes were full of an old kind of sadness. Izuku felt those words hit him square in the heart. It shocked him that Funamizu cared that much, that anyone could. Izuku quickly looked away from Funamizu. 

 

“She won’t. They won’t find her, I won’t let that happen. They won’t kill me because I have something that guarantees that won’t happen.” He couldn’t look at Funamizu, “just trust me on this, okay?” When he finally got around to looking at Funamizu, he didn’t look like he wanted to trust Izuku at all. I did kinda give him a fake name… 

 

“…you’re sure? You won’t be hurt? You and your mom are going to be okay?” Funamizu looked terrified. Not of the criminals, or of Izuku: he looked terrified for Izuku. He reminds me a lot of Uncle Masaru. 

 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He smiled at the man, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” I’ll probably be dead in 48 hours, but hey, I’ll come around. 

Funamizu nodded grimly, but then he held out his hand. Izuku tilted his head at the gesture. Cautiously, Izuku put his own hand in Funamizu’s and watched as he shook Izuku’s hand firmly. 

 

“If this doesn’t work out, I want you to know that you’re a good kid. Thanks for… Thanks for being there with me.” Something in that statement hit closer to home than Izuku liked, so he fought off tears while Funamizu continued. “You didn’t have to do this. You’re risking your life for the rest of us— just…” now Funamizu was getting choked up. Izuku felt like a soldier being sent off to war. 

“…it was a pleasure to meet you. I mean it. And thank you for this. I don’t know if I would have the strength to call when I’ve got my wife waiting for me at home. You’re a lot braver than I am.” Izuku blinked back the tears, trying to speak through the lump in his throat. 

 

“Hey… d-don’t go acting like I’m going to die— I’ll be fine. Everything will be okay. You and Mrs.Funamizu will be just fine. And—and I’ll live.” It was both a lie and the truth. He would live, but only after they killed him. I’m going to get killed. 

When Funamizu left for home Izuku was filled with determination— Funamizu and Mrs. Funamizu will be alright. I have to do this for each one of those people. Originally, he was scared out of his mind about being found and killed by some Drug-selling-gang. Now he marched, knowing full well what waited for him on the other side of his call but he had to do it. He had to in order to protect families like Funamizu’s from being hurt. I can heal, but they cannot. 

 

I would gladly die a thousand times if it means even one more person is safe. 

 

 

 

Now he dialed the number, just one day later. His hands were as still as a heart surgeon’s when he held the phone up to his ear. Is that a blade on my neck or is it just the wind? The pay phone rang only once before a woman answered the phone. 

 

Calmly, slowly, Izuku explained: “there is an active large-scale drug operation going on behind me. I do not know how much time I have before one of the men running the operation find me and kill me. How fast can you get officers to the Eastern Shore District? I’m on the corner of Block 7.” His palms were sweating. He gripped the phone tighter and prayed. 

 

“Ex—excuse me? Uhm,” the woman stammered, “this is just a tip line so let me transfer you—.” The phone clicked, the line held, and she hadn’t hung up on him. Izuku shuddered out a breath of relief, I’m alright. They’ll all be alright. 

 

When the line picked up again, it was to the sound of a man. “Detective Tsukauchi speaking.”

 

Izuku decided not to waste time, “Behind me is a large-scale drug operation that hires civilians to distribute drugs. The drugs are put in cardboard boxes with an orange logo on them and inside small opening briefcases. The drug is a bright red in color and it is held in packs of three syringes per case. I am on block 7 of the Eastern Shore district.” 

 

“Shit— really? Okay, okay— we can send out officers right now and get there in fifteen minutes. You sound young, how did you find out about this?” The detective was on the move as he said this, hurry in his tone. 

 

“I don’t know how much time I have before the operators of this place find me and kill me.” Izuku wholly ignored the statement about his age, “They hired civilians to try and cover up the operation. There are four workers inside the building and two operators, as well as close to four whole pallets of product.” Izuku felt his voice shake. They’re going to find me— hurry up! 

 

“Stay calm and stay where you are if you can. We are on the way right now— why do you think they’re after you?” Izuku heard a car engine start and the wailing of sirens. 

“Tell them to shut off their sirens! Those—those people could get k-killed if they know you’re coming! I just came out of the warehouse and one of the workers will have to tell them where I am. I told Mr. Funamizu to tell them what I did to make sure they didn’t hurt the others. I don’t know what they’ll do when they find out I did this but— but it’s better than them finding Mr. Funamizu’s family.” The terror was well into his voice now, wobbling lip making his words choked up. 

 

“Oh my god… kid, please, hide somewhere or— or just wait until it’s safe. We’re almost there just hold on,” Tsukauchi cursed, “do they only keep the operation running at specific times? Is that why you called like this?”

“Yes, they start packing up right at 5 and I need you to get here before they do that.” He peered back at the building anxiously, spotting no movement. “If I’m still here when you arrive I’ll point you in the direction of the warehouse— otherwise it’s just across the corner of block 7. Very long warehouse and it might have trucks coming out of it.” 

 

Izuku looked back at the building and froze.

“Oh god… N-no no not here.” He saw a man emerge from the building, checking the opposite direction of the building and not seeing Izuku at the payphone yet. 

 

“Kid? You see somebody?” His tone was sharp and worried. This must be terrifying to listen to a kid be killed over the phone. Izuku backed behind the payphone as cover. 

“Yeah—yeah there’s a m-man that came out. Where are you now?” His heart was a jackhammer in his chest. 

 

“We can see Block 7. Luckily it wasn’t too far away from our office.” Izuku looked down both ends of the street, not quite seeing them yet. 

“How are you getting here so fast?” 

“We may or may not be speeding.” 

 

Izuku giggled, the fear starting to ebb away. The man ducked back inside the building and Izuku’s heart slowed. He could see the cars now— their sirens were off as they pulled into the side of the road. Izuku quickly spoke into the phone. 

 

“I see you! I’m going to walk towards your car, don’t freak out!” And then he hung up. 

Running from the corner of block 7, Izuku waved his arms at a man who was looking furiously around. He looked a lot like what Izuku imagined a detective would look like with his long brown coat and Sleek black hair. The man spotted Izuku and went around the car to see him. While he did that, officers filled the building and shouts permeated through the air. 

 

“You really are a kid,” detective Tsukauchi mumbled in awe as Izuku got close enough, “and you’re okay? No injuries?” Tsukauchi kneeled down to Izuku’s level. 

Izuku noticed that they were using the Detectives car as cover, so he huddled in closer. “I’m fine right now! Those guys definitely know it was me now…” Izuku tugged on his hood. He kept it up and over his hair. 

 

“And these men will have it out for you after this? How do you know they’ll kill you?” He was calm when asking his questions, letting the havoc going on behind them ride out. 

 

“They’ll probably kill me— if they have been stowing away t-that much er— product, then they probably have a big operation running. Those people will know and will come after me once they find out. But I’ll be fine!” 

 

Tsukauchi looked surprised, “you… said they would kill you, but also that you would be fine?” Now he just looked confused. 

“Yes? I mean, it’s got something to do with my quirk, so don’t worry about it!” 

 

Tsukauchi didn’t react much to that statement, “what about your family?” 

“They’ll be okay too!” Technically she was. 

Tsukauchi nodded, looking back at the area before turning back to Izuku. “It looks like they got it under control, would you be willing to stay behind for a statement?” 

“Yes, but uhm, can I hide in your car?” 

“Oh! Sure! Let me just— here,” awkwardly, Tsukauchi opened the car door and Izuku slipped inside, sliding down between the seats and laying so anyone that passed by the window wouldnt spot him. Tsukauchi looked a little impressed. “Hang tight, kid. We’ll get these guys out of here and take you to get your statement done.” 

 

Izuku agreed. Even if I don’t want law enforcement on my tail, it’s better to cooperate so they can catch these guys. So he sat and waited. But then, out of the corner of his eye, a dark clothed man approached detective Tsukauchi. Hey I remember that guy…

 

———

 

“Detective,” Eraserhead greeted, “everything inside is taken care of, they’ll be putting these guys in holding cells until you get the evidence you need. Mind if I come with you?” By that, Eraserhead meant ‘I’ll be coming with you anyways’. 

 

“How many workers?” Tsukauchi scribbled down something in his notepad, “And how many civilians?” 

“Well, the workers were all wearing the same shirt so they were easy to count. There were two inside and five heading towards the warehouse before we showed up. I’ve already cuffed them.” Eraserhead blinked sluggishly, “big operation here?” 

 

Tsukauchi looked concerned and casted a glance at his car. “Yeah… yeah apparently they’ve been packing up illegal substances, disguising them with a brand. They hired civilians for whatever reason to load the boxes into trucks.” 

 

Eraser was suddenly alert. “Do you know what type?” 

“I’ve got a hunch. I was told the drug was bright red.” Tsukauchi knew exactly what that sounded like. 

 

“It’s Boost— or Trigger now— isn’t it?” Eraserhead asked as Tsukauchi led them in. After a quick scan of the warehouse, he went for the pallets. Some boxes were knocked over in the panic and an entire truck sat with the bed half-full. 

Tsukauchi pulled a box forward, opening it to see a sleek case. Pulling it out and flicking it open, it was exactly what he feared. 

 

“All of this? This is all just Trigger?” Eraserhead inspected one syringe, carefully tilting it to watch the liquid inside. “Who gave you the tip?” There was a careful edge to his voice. Tsukauchi furrowed his brows. 

“It was a child who was working here. He said he saw something and decided to call even by risk of his life.” His face scrunched up like the whole situation put a bad taste in his mouth. 

 

“They hired children?” Eraserhead whipped his head around to Tsukauchi while his eyes burned a little in hatred. Working so closely with children, it must be touchy for him.

Tsukauchi sighed, “Just the one so far as I know.” 

“And he called even if his life was at risk?” 

 

“He said he had to do it so Mr. Funamizu— another hired civilian I’m guessing— wouldn't have to and put his family at risk.” He gently wriggled the vial from Eraserhead’s grasp and put it back in the case. “He specifically said that they were going to kill him.” 

 

“…and we’re they?” 

Tsukauchi knew exactly what Eraserhead was asking. Did he wholeheartedly believe it to be true? “Yes.” 

 

Eraser turned away and put a hand over his mouth, leaning against the truck. For a moment he was silent. Considering what Tsukauchi just told him… it was a natural reaction. A kid was scared for his life but he called anyway. 

 

“He’s—,” Eraserhead cleared his throat, “He’s okay?” He looked back to Tsukauchi. Act as broody as you want, but when no one’s looking you have a huge soft spot for kids. Tsukauchi didn’t find it appropriate to laugh At Eraserhead at that very moment. 

 

“Yes, he’s going to be just fine. Those five you caught were probably called in to search for the child but we made it in good time.” Tsukauchi did offer a small smile then. 

 

Eraser’s shoulders slumped, “good. That’s good. Good to see you came around on speeding.” 

 

“You—there was no one around! This city is practically a ghost town! Who was going to arrest us for speeding, huh? Ourselves??” Tsukauchi was mildly offended at the accusation, “just because I sped this one time does NOT mean I’m a delinquent like you! This is why no one lets you drive.” Huffing, Tsukauchi crossed his arms. He saw a small smile twitch on Erasers face before he dipped it below his scarf. Then he had the gall to glare at Tsukauchi. 

 

Him. Eraserhead the man who just couldn’t drive: glaring at law-abiding Tsukauchi for calling out his unlawful habits. This is hypocrisy— or whatever the word is! 

 

“Well, whatever,” Tsukauchi waved it off, “I’ve got statements to record and all that. Have fun with the paperwork.” 

 

“Right. That. Well, I’m riding there in your car and taking advantage of your coffee machine when we get there.” Eraserhead left the warehouse, simultaneously leaving no room for argument. 

“Teaching is really taking it out of you, huh?” Tsukauchi snickered, watching Eraserhead saunter to his car. 

 

“Don’t even.” He grumbled before grabbing the passenger door handle and pausing. “Detective?”

 

“Oh… uh, right— so remember that kid I told you about? Thats him, yup, stop pointing at him— don’t tap the window either he’s not a fish—!” Tsukauchi came forward and swatted Eraser’s hand out of the way, giving a warning wave to The kid. 

 

He popped the driver side door open. “Hey kid, this is my colleague Eraserhead. Pro hero. He’s gonna ride with us to the station, sound good?” 

The kid nodded, a stray curl of dark hair tickled his nose. Tsukauchi had noticed a while ago that he was pretty pale. In his hands Tsukauchi would sometimes see blue veins prominently against the addled skin and the small sliver of a scar on the back of his left hand. Maybe I should stop being so observant, one of these days it’s just going to make me uncomfortable. 

 

“Alright then,” He waved for Eraser to hop in. 

 

“Hey kid,” Eraserhead said first-thing, “You doing okay?” 

 

The kid looked confused. “Y-yeah?” 

 

“I’m Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, can we have a name to call you by?” Tsukauchi cut in and smiled in the rear view mirror. Izuku slid up into a seat and buckled himself, looking around the car for potential exits. 

 

“They call me Suiu, it’s uh, not really my name but…y—Y’know…” he shifted, avoiding eye contact with Tsukauchi. 

 

Tsukauchi’s eyebrows shot into his hairline while Eraser gave Tsukauchi a questioning look. In lieu of giving Eraser an answer, he decided to answer both of them. 

 

“That’s fine, We don’t need a real name. Especially if you’re a minor. All we need is proof of employment there and maybe a way to contact you for further details later on this case.” Tsukauchi proceeded to start up the car, “do they keep any records on-hand? Anything physical enough to tie you to this case?”

 

“Yeah, they— they have a little fileholder next to this old machine with cards that punch in the hours. My card should have ‘green’ signed at the bottom.” Suiu shifted in his seat, lips pursing as if he wanted to say something else. Tsukauchi let him speak. 

 

“A—and uhm— is Mr. Funamizu alright?” 

 

“Yes, he’s just fine. No one was hurt.” 

 

Suiu visibly relaxed then, letting his back touch the seat instead of staying ram-rod straight the whole ride. Eraser made a face. 

 

“Suiu.” Eraserhead stared blankly ahead, Suiu turned to him, “Would you mind if I sat in on the questioning? I’d like to ask some things as well, if that’s alright.” Tsukauchi was taken aback. Since when did he get so polite? 

 

“Oh uhm— sure.” For some reason, Suiu was shifty about it. Tsukauchi’s eyes narrowed at the two of them. There’s something going on here and I don’t like it. Tsukauchi then pinned Eraserhead with a look. 

 

When they arrived at the station (without speeding) Tsukauchi opened Suiu’s door for him and ushered the two inside. Once there, Tsukauchi offered to get Suiu something to drink. Suiu eyed the coffee machine and Tsukauchi chuckled. Once he started making a cup for Suiu he led the kid into an interrogation room before slipping back out to question Eraserhead. 

 

Tsukauchi folded his arms and regarded the tired man, judgementally, “Why did you want to sit in on the interview? And why are you asking to question him too?” He pressed. Eraser sighed. 

“I recognize him. He’s that kid I pointed out to you after the unsolved case with that school… Aldera Junior high.” 

“Wait— thats him? You don’t think he’s….” Tsukauchi furrowed his brows, “I don’t know, going down a vigilante path? Or connected to that case… but that case is not unsolved, we’re still looking into our leads.” The detective was a little offended that Eraserhead would call the case Unsolved. 

 

“I don’t think he’s doing this on purpose. That first time was just him trying to help someone out, and this time it wasn’t on purpose. He didn’t go out and beat up stray criminals— he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, thats all.” Eraser grabbed the kid’s mug and a bunch of cream and sugar packets, “Remember: he called the police like he should and then he agreed to an interview. This kid is a trouble magnet, sure— but he’s being an upstanding citizen by calling the proper authorities. He is not the one on the wrong side of the law here.” 

There was a pause. Eraser started the machine for his own mug. Tsukauchi waited. 

 

“You found a lead on the case?” 

“Well, not really—“

“Hrm.”

“— but the blood we analyzed told us that the kid who jumped wasn‘t enrolled at Aldera. Now we’re trying to somehow find a clue from the footage but it’s brutal. I think I’ll start getting nightmares if I have to watch it a second time.” Tsukauchi shivered. 

 

Eraserhead nodded, turning with both coffees in hand and pockets bursting with sugars. The two of them strolled into the interrogation room. Suiu looked up at them from his fidgeting hands, giving them a shaky smile. 

 

“So, Suiu,” Tsukauchi watched as Suiu poured a bunch of sugars into his coffee, “Why were you working there?”

 

“I needed the money to help my mom out with the bills.” 

 

Tsukauchi flinched. Suiu immediately looked alert.

 

“You’ve got a lie detector quirk,” Suiu blurted with wide eyes at Tsukauchi. Tsukauchi blinked for a moment. “Oh—er— sorry! It’s just, you flinched after I told you that, but you didn’t all those other times when I told you that I would be fine. So you must have something that tells you when people are lying— it’s— thats so cool! It must be super helpful as a Detective!” Then Suiu clamped a hand over his mouth. His face was now light pink and he refused to look Tsukauchi in the eye. “…sorry.” He muttered. 

 

“You figured that all out from a flinch?” Eraserhead looked so skeptical that it was almost funny. 

 

“Well— that and the fact that I was lying… sorry. Again.” He put his hands in his lap and looked a lot like a scolded puppy. Tsukauchi held up a hand, smiling. 

 

“It’s alright, my quirk is called Lie Detector: it allows me to distinguish a lie from the truth. It sends a signal to my brain when there’s a lie— but it’s all dependent on what a person deems their truth.” Moving on, he folded his hands together. “That was a warm up question, just to get a feel for the situation. Sorry if it was a bit uncomfortable for you.” It was a dumb question and also none of my business. 

 

“How did you find the job?” He asked instead of more personal questions. 

 

“There was a flier for it. It—it was very bare. Just listed the location and the pay, and it was definitely trying to lure in a poorer crowd.” The boy was wringing his hands like crazy as he talked. 

 

“They didn’t question you or turn you down?”

“I…I gave them the same reason I gave you. The job description was simple enough, so they let me on.” 

“How long had you been there working for them?”

“About three weeks.” 

 

“What all did you notice about the place that was suspicious?”

 

At this, Suiu’s expression shifted. “The flier. They had a logo on the flier and a name in English— or, at least, I thought it was English. I uhm, I looked up the name. It was called Organizada but when I looked it up, it was a direct translation of organized in Spanish. Which was, uh, really weird?” 

Detective Tsukauchi looked intrigued, “go on?”

 

“Well, anyone looking at it in English would probably think it was a play off of the word organic and well— I was bored so…” Suiu fidgeted again, “…yeah.” 

 

“How did you find out about the substances they were transporting?” 

“Someone dropped one of the boxes. I didn’t see who but it must have been Mr. Funamizu, but uhm. All we had to do was put the boxes in the trucks as they came in so nobody was watching when it happened. These—these weird cases came out, so I looked inside one before telling Mr. Funamizu to put it back into the box. I told him later what I saw.” 

 

“You also said that you were sure they would come after you if you called it in,” Tsukauchi leaned forward, “Do you know who is going to come after you?” 

 

“…not really.” The boy looked at the ground, sullen. “The size of the operation made me scared, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that if they knew what I did—they wouldn’t just let me get away with it. I just… I couldn’t…” his eyes welled up with tears. Tsukauchi watched as he pushed the heel of his palms against his eyes, lip wobbling. Naomasa gave a sidelong glance to Eraserhead who turned and gave him the same expression back. 

 

“How about we take a break? Me and Eraserhead will go out of the room for a moment, do you need anything?” Tsukauchi got up. Suiu shook his head but otherwise kept his hands over his eyes. Poor kid… 

 

The two of them convened just outside the room’s doors. Eraserhead adjusted his scarf and looked at Tsukauchi once the door was closed. 

“He lied about needing the money for his mom.” It wasnt a question. 

“Yes, but he was telling the truth about everything else.” 

“Why did he do that?” Eraserhead said more to himself than to Tsukauchi. The detective sighed anyway.

“Eraserhead, it’s not any of our business—“ he started reproachfully, but was quickly cut off. 

 

“No. Don’t give me that. Something is seriously wrong here and it’s only pissing me off the more we step around it.” His eyes flared with his quirk, hair sticking up while pinning Tsukauchi with a dark look. “I know how kids operate, and something isn’t adding up here.” 

 

“Haah…” Tsukauchi sighed, “being a teacher taught you all about kids, huh? Then what is going on here, if you’re so sure something’s wrong.” Tsukauchi knew better than to poke sleeping bears, but he was kind of fed up with Eraser’s attitude. A moment passed with Eraser still glowering at Naomasa. 

 

Then he looked away. “I don’t know. I have this feeling that something’s wrong here. Seeing how pale the kid is, that scar on the back of his hand, how nervous he is… it all adds up.” 

“I understand, but you can’t possibly be insinuating what I think you are… that is a very serious accusation. I hope you’re prepared to back it up.” 

 

“Yes. Either he’s been through some amount of abuse, or he’s living on the streets.” 

“Eraserhead— what exactly are you going to ask him when you get the chance?”

 

“If he’s safe at home. Then, if he reacts well enough to that: I’ll ask him why he was out that night. I just need to know those two things, after that we can let him go.”

Tsukauchi gave Eraserhead a pensive look. I can agree with that, and since it’ll be off the record I won’t have to record what my quirk tells me. “Alright.” He agreed. 

 

 

————

 

Did they really just ask me that? Izuku sat in his chair, stock still and frowning heavily. He could understand why they did. Izuku didn't hold it against them for asking, but he was majorly confused. Mostly because, well, why would they care? 

 

For a long moment, Izuku considered the question. He looked at Detective Tsukauchi as well. “Everything’s fine at home. I don’t know why you would ask that….” The two adults shared a glance. Five more seconds passed before it finally clicked for Izuku. 

 

They don’t know I’m quirkless— was quirkless. They genuinely care because I’m a kid. His heart sank. I didnt tell anyone, I guess he wouldn’t… disappointed, Izuku got up. 

 

“I’ve— I’ve got to get back home. I’ll just—!” Tears pricked his eyes again, they don’t really care at all. Why am I so disappointed? This happens every time. 

“Wait, kid…” Eraserhead spoke, “could you at least tell me why you were out that night? The day you saved that old man?” 

 

Izuku froze. He remembered. He got a little excited at that, he really remembered! He looked at Eraser with sparkling eyes. “Huh? I was— it was just… I couldn’t sleep, so I walked around the neighborhood.” He lied through his teeth. Lying and lying— he was getting good at that. Not even looking at Tsukauchi but still seeing the shift in demeanor, he said, “can I go now? I have to get back home.”

 

Tsukauchi silently watched as Izuku’s fists clenched, jaw set and eyes turned. “….yes, you’re free to go.”

His mug is empty.  huh.

 

 

Tsukauchi would learn that his words were the wrong ones. After that, he wouldn’t see Izuku for a long time. Some weeks afterwards he would remember that day and feel his jaw tighten. Chest constricted in a familiar feeling. The one that got away. Aldera would hand over their file for Izuku, stating that he neglected to show up for his final year and Tsukauchi knew. He knew why he didn’t show back up. Now that school had to shoulder not just a crime scene with a missing victim, but also a missing person. The only reason he came to know that he ever went missing… 

 

… was because of one determined blonde boy. That same boy was also why he could never mark the missing boy as dead— as his schoolmate found a way to stop him. 

 

 

~~~~~~~

 

Notes:

Subtle subtle...please comment I'm so thirsty for comments pleasssseee I wanna know what you thinkkk

Chapter 8: A medley of circumstances

Summary:

Bakugou feels guilty, Tsukauchi grieves early, And Izuku is living his best life!

Notes:

WARNING-- Death, blood, implied child abuse, murder, and some other depressing themes

Katsuki was concerned.

 

It was a new feeling for him. After all those years— that time in the hospital visiting his friend and bullying years afterwards— he had only felt real regret now. And concern. It was frightening to discover the feeling slither into his heart that day. 

 

It was slow at first. Usually, Bakugo would see him and Auntie Inko making their way about the town. Maybe towards the cinema or the mall, but he absolutely would see them. They were close by, so it was strange not to see them. It struck him as odd when he didn’t. Then, with the time he saw Izuku at school with… was he that tired? He had circles under his eyes and the bags were so dark they looked like twin bruises. He was disturbingly pale too. White as a sheet and out of his mind as it seemed too. 

That day before the school shut down from the crime scene, Bakugo got front row seats to Izuku’s concerning mental state. He didn’t respond to nearly any stimuli, and he only did so once to look at Katsuki. The rest of the time he was dead to the world and staring off into the far distance. Then, after they came back, Izuku looked downright sick. Pale and twitchy, nervous beyond all reason. The concern made Katsuki angry for a while. 

 

Until it didn't. 

Their break from school left Bakugo feeling stumped. His mom was used to him being explosive and excitable during the breaks, even going as far as to say he was happier away from school— but this time was different. His behavior shifted so starkly, she even spoke up to him about it. 

 

“Kat,” she cooed, “is everything okay?” 

He sat slumped on their living room couch, eyes dropped to the floor with his hands fidgeting in his lap. Mitsuki rounded the corner, surprised to see him there. When she called out to him Katsuki looked up. 

 

“… have you talked to Inko lately?” He asked. Mitsuki blinked and sat beside him. Gently, she leaned to his level. 

“No, I haven’t spoken to her in a while. We sort of… drifted apart at some point. We grew apart.” She paused, noticing how silent Katsuki became, “Kat I— is everything okay? What’s goin’ on, Hon?” She softly placed a hand on his back, rubbing small circles on it. 

 

Katsuki looked a little startled. Mitsuki would be lying if she said she gave this much attention to Katsuki on a regular basis. Ever since Katsuki developed his quirk, he had distanced himself from affection and became increasingly aggressive. His behavior was understandable to her. She acted aggressive herself and he was a teenager. He wanted to be a hero so he trained hard and took to his studies, hardly giving her a chance for a family sit-down. He was so much like her that it hurt to see her own struggles in him. She had gotten better when she met Masaru but…

 

Finally Katsuki seemed to break out his stupor and answer her, “I haven’t seen D—Izuku in a while, and the last time he came to school he looked kinda sick. I was just wondering if she ever mentioned anything.” Katsuki huffed, “I haven’t seen Inko either.” 

 

“What if they moved?” Mitsuki suggested. Katsuki growled. 

“They wouldn't do that. They don’t have any reason to move— something’s wrong and I’m gonna find out what.” Determined and disgruntled, he got up from the couch and stomped to the door. Mitsuki could only watch after him and sigh. 

 

Katsuki went as far as to check their apartment, only to learn from the owner that their keys were turned in long ago. Now that usually burning part of Bakugo turned ice cold. They wouldn’t do that. He thought back to Izuku coming to school right after the bloodied crime scene, She wouldn’t have…. The itchy, crawling feeling of wrongness followed him home. It wedged itself between all of his other feelings and stayed there. All through their break it stayed there. 

 

Finally, he arrived at the police station. He knew he had to file a missing person’s report, but something was nagging at him. The small whisper of Izuku’s voice in his ear, chanting, who would care if a quirkless kid went missing? It sickened him. Not because it was just a horrible thought, but because he put it there. It was my fault. He didn’t want to know for what yet. He was sort of hoping for the best. He walked in, looked around, and immediately deemed everyone in there an extra. The man at the front desk asked him what he needed so Katsuki told him. 

 

“I need to file a fuckin’ missing persons report.” He didn’t like it there. The entire atmosphere made him feel like it was the beginning of the end for Izuku just by filing the report. The man nodded. 

“Alright, let me grab an officer. Just tell him everything you know and you’ll be on your way.”

 

And fuck it was that easy. 

 

Immediately after he filed the report, they shouldered him out of there before he could blink. Annoyed, he stomped towards his house. They probably won’t even go looking for him, it felt like swallowing glass to admit, once they find out he’s quirkless he’ll probably get declared dead on the spot. Katsuki isn’t an idiot, he knows the prejudice that smothers quirkless people every day. Hell, he was one of those people! 

It makes sense for him to disappear for good, a small part of him whispered, after all, you did such a good job of telling him how worthless he was. Katsuki shook his head, no! He wouldn’t do that— he never knows when to give up so why would he now?! Fuming, he continued to try for reason, I said some stupid shit, but he wouldn’t do that to Inko! 

Katsuki wasn't stupid either. He knew that there was a very real chance of Izuku rotting in a ditch somewhere at that very moment. He knew there was a good chance of him being held somewhere, desperately needing help but no one cared about quirkless kids. That stabbing sensation in his heart was a friend by now. The crushing guilt that he wasn’t there to save him. He wanted to cry but he didn’t deserve to. 

It’s your fault. You know that. 

 

Whatever happened to Izuku… Katsuki knew that in some part it was his own fault. So, he didn’t deserve to cry. He had to find Izuku, save him, grill him about why he went missing and maybe then he would cry. But not now. 

Not while I’m still the same asshole he knew. 

 

 

——-

 

“… and then this kid lights up explosions in his palms because I told him there was nothing we could do! Let me tell you, with a powerful quirk like that I can bet my last dollar that kid’ll be top of the charts in a few years time!” A cop laughed—much like a turkey would cluck— at his friend who gave him a pained smile. 

“Should uh, should we be talking about a kid going through the grief of their friend going missing?” The other cop spoke gently. Tsukauchi nodded. Although the two cops weren’t paying attention to him, they were still waiting for the same pot of coffee ever since the individual cup one went missing. 

The other cop huffed, “yeah, I feel bad for the kid. I’m half tempted to throw the case out because— well— the missing kid?” The other cop looked intrigued, leaning in conspiratorially, “He’s quirkless.” 

 

Tsukauchi’s spine was now straight. In half a second, he clocked the conversation as not just unusual— but almost neglectful if the man continued his train of thought. 

The other cop who was much more gentle in nature, put a hand up to his mouth and looked concerned. “Poor kid… you don’t think he’s another suicide case, do you?” 

The other officer shrugged, “Don’t know. I’m just surprised the kid had anyone that cared enough to find out what happened to him. According to the birthday that blondie gave me, he’s only fourteen.” 

Tsukauchi froze. A missing kid clocking in at about fourteen? It was so eerily familiar. Twisting, he rounded on the officers and began asking them questions. 

 

“Do you have the report? Where can I find it?” He jumped in and the two officers startled. One blabbered off where to find the report while the other looked mildly confused. Tsukauchi ignored further questions by bee-lining it to the information desk and slipping the report out. 

 

In front of him, in cold and calculating paper form, was a boy. Smiling brightly in the photo, a school picture with his uniform on. He looked so bright it hurt knowing. He knew who that kid was. While the file listed his legal name, he knew him as Suiu. 

It finally crashed down on him. A kids dead. A trembling fist closed in front of his clenched teeth. He’s dead and missing. He wanted so badly to deny it— to hope beyond all reason that he was wrong and that the kid was alive somewhere but he knew. It hurt to know so much. He was right in front of me and I did nothing. 

His own failure was now staring him down between bright eyes and cold evidence. Evidence that stated there was no way he survived. The file said, in big red letters— a confirmation of his every fear— Quirkless. 

And he was numb. What am I going to tell Eraserhead? He felt like throwing up, it’s my fault this kid is dead— he’s going to blame himself and me— what do I even tell him? He saw the kid too. What are you even supposed to tell people in a situation like that? They had a chance to help him and do something but… they let him go. They put him back out on the streets, the very same streets that wanted him dead. Now he was. The bile rose up his throat, and we didn’t do anything. 

 

Calling up Eraserhead, Tsukauchi felt the brunt of a funeral on his shoulders. In shaky tones and choked syllables, he told Eraser to come by the station. Everything felt so cold. 

 

Eraserhead did come by. He walked in wearing civilian clothes and his capture scarf, hair tied up and marching in Tsukauchi’s direction. 

 

“What’s going on?” Eraser demanded. 

Tsukauchi just led him to his office and sat him down. Eraserhead just looked peeved. 

“Y’know, I kinda had to leave my husband at home for this— so could you hurry up and—!”

Tsukauchi passed him the file. Eraserhead stopped talking. Tsukauchi was half sure he stopped breathing too. 

Looking down at the image, sweeping over the file, and landing on the part about his quirk… Eraserhead looked up at him. Tsukauchi knew he came to the same conclusion from the hurt in his eyes. 

“…no.” He whispered, “But he was here— we… we could have… I should’ve— no.” Eraser slumped against the seat and stared at the paper. Then he shot up, determined. 

“Who called this in?” He demanded. 

“His—his classmate and neighbor Katsuki Bakugou. It’s all listed there.” Tsukauchi didn't know what to make of EraserHeads sudden fervor. The Pro Hero grabbed the file and flipped through it at record speeds, only stopping when he read what he needed to. 

“Don’t declare him dead.” Eraserhead spoke up, “He might still be alive if he turned in the keys for the apartment.” 

“Wh—what? But he said—!” 

“And he said he would survive, right?“ Eraser glared at him with his quirk active, hair flaring and eyes red, “In complete truthfulness?” 

“Well— yes but I don’t see how—!” Tsukauchi was beginning to get annoyed. Being cut off wasn't fun. 

“Then I believe him.” 

“… but why? He could be dead and buried right now and we wouldn’t know.” 

“Because if we don’t believe him— then we have a dead kid on our hands. And if we don’t trust him, then we could stop looking for him and never know if he lived or not.” EraserHeads hands came up and grabbed the air, clutching it like he could choke the truth out, “For all we know, he could be alive right now. But he might need our help. So don’t you dare give up on him— not until we see the body. Got it?” 

“…” 

 

“He could be dead. Or he could just be missing. Alive but missing— don’t stop looking until we find him.” 

His tone was so desperate that Tsukauchi had no choice but to nod. He didn’t believe it— but maybe it would be worth it to actually look than give up and never know with 100 percent certainty. Tsukauchi still had a modicum of uncertainty, but he would believe Eraserhead. If not for himself, he would investigate as much as he could for a friend. Although Eraserhead would deny ever being his friend. 

 

———

 

Izuku was doing great! Ever since calling out that drug operation, he found a new job that brought in more money than the last one. People would come to him with questions about their quirk abilities and Izuku would give them pages of information to help their journey. He did have a policy of refusing service if the customer dipped into more criminal territory— but other than that it was great! He was cheaper than a quirk counselor so many people would come to him for help on their quirk. Another fun thing he would like to do is find if anyone’s quirk is similar to a hero’s and tell the person to research that hero as well. 

Soon enough, he saved up enough for a burner phone. The slow crawl of his progress made him feel so excited that— that he had completely forgotten to mention that day. 

 

Right. That day— the consequences of my nosiness. You see, Izuku left the police station unharmed, but a couple days later some men found him and they meant business. They surrounded him and pulled him from the road. He won’t lie. I was terrified. They held him down and grilled him for anything he knew, a knife to his throat. 

“What do you know?! You called the fuckin’ cops you rat!!” One man screamed, his face covered by an eerie clown mask. Izuku let a tear slip down but otherwise held eye contact. He glared as hard as he could and he wanted them to see every speck of hatred he felt in that moment. They had been like that for the past ten minutes and Izuku was starting to get bored. 

“I’m…” he started, making sure each member listened closely. 

 

“… not. Telling you SHIT.” 

A fist cracked against his face and he groaned. Blood poured down his broken nose, flooding his throat and painting his face. Tears blurred his vision and it stung. 

 

But he smiled. 

He grinned with his teeth, daring them to hit him again. 

They obliged, near caving his nose in with the fist that flew. He couldn’t keep up, feeling his face slowly numb from the beating. Eventually, one of the other members pulled the clown-guy off of him, saying something about Izuku being “just a kid”. His ears were too busy ringing though so he wasn’t sure. 

The cold edge of the knife pressed against his lower throat. No warning given, it sliced cleanly against his skin and Izuku choked. His arms were free but he didn’t reach for the wound. Izuku closed his eyes, letting the darkness take him… Damn am I lucky I didn’t have my wallet on me today. In his last moments, he vaguely felt hands patting him down and frantically plucking at his waist. Please just dump my body somewhere comfy, thanks. 

 

…

 

GASP. Izuku clawed at his throat— springing straight up and heaving in every breath. His throat was dry and itchy. Frantically he looked around while only a dark room met his eyes, light blue hair spotted in his vision. 

“Holy shit,” the boy (?) in the corner croaked. Izuku swung his gaze around and finally met the guy’s eyes. 

He didn’t say another word. Izuku stared… and continued to stare. 

 

“…”

 

“……”

 

“Uh— w—who are you?” Izuku pointed and yeah— the guy had his arms up the wall like he could crawl away on it, back pressed in a corner furthest from Izuku. The guy blinked.

“…you just got up.” Izuku noted how scratchy the guy’s voice was.

Izuku looked down at the rather crusty couch he was laying on. “Yeah? Wait— why am I on your couch?” He looked around again. To his left there was a very burnt looking man, right next to a suited void-Guy. It goes without saying how confused Izuku was.

 

“You died.” 

“And I lived.” He answered but had his mind elsewhere, “hey, that's a cool jacket.” He pointed at the guy in the corner, his jacket was mostly grey but had little flame details on the sleeves. The guy looked startled for a moment. 

“Erm. Thanks?” 

“Shigi, why is this bloody child on our couch?” The very scarred man rasped out, smelling heavily like cigarettes. 

“Yeah! I want to know that too! Could I start getting some names or something?” Izuku stood up from the couch and that only served to confuse the rest of the room further. 

“Are you… feeling alright?” The void man asked. 

“Uh, I guess? I mean, I feel fine.” Izuku quirked an eyebrow, “why do you ask?” 

“Your throat was cut open. And your face was beat, heavily.” 

“Huh I mean— ooohhhhh…” he finally remembered, “oh yeahhh. That. Uh, well, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine!” He patted his fresh scar, sort of swiping away the blood, “See? All good!” 

The scarred guy winced when he patted it. “Jeez, and how long ago was that?” 

“About an hour ago.” 

“An hour ago?!” His hand curled in his hair. The room stilled, waiting for an adverse reaction like they were expecting. 

It never came. “Yes!! My time is improving! I need to write this down— wait wait that can wait— thanks for bringing me here!” He whooped and jumped in excitement. He’d been practicing for a long time, trying to get his down-time to decrease and today was the epitome of his hard work. His celebration winded down soon though, as he realized he forgot to ask something.

“Not that I’m— I’m ungrateful or something, but why am I here?” His hands were now stuffed into his hoodie pocket. 

“Young Shigaraki here spotted you getting beaten by those thugs,” yeesh, now I’m just embarrassed. “So we brought you back here to see if anything comes of it. Which, it’s safe to say, something did.”

“What the fuck? Why are you getting beat to death in the streets? You’re like— fourteen!” 

Izuku tried not to flinch from how painfully accurate the scarred guy was. 

“That's some seriously cool cheat you have…” the whitish haired guy scratched at his neck, “How often do you heal like that?” 

“Not sure how comfy I am with answering that! You’re not gonna— uh— I don’t know, cut me open if I tell you?” Pausing, Izuku considered himself. I know I’m excited to talk to someone about this for once, but a complete stranger? Get a grip! “Actually— don’t answer that. So… introductions! I’m Suiu, hi.” He gave a little wave. 

Shigaraki gave a befuddled wave back. 

“I’m Dabi, this is Kurogiri.” He jutted a thumb at the void. Izuku waved again. “That's Shigaraki.” 

“That's great. So, can I go or…?” 

Kurogiri blinked his beady little eyes. Then he inclined his head and opened up a portal. “Will you be alright to head home from the location we found you at?” 

“Yeap! That’s fine— okay, bye bye now!” He walked through the portal and shivered. Misty, ick. 

 

 

Is it bad that I forgot about being a little kidnapped? His hand lightly scratched the scar on his throat. Shrugging, he opened his burner phone and checked on his last client. Usually, he has the client pay in physical money, but he does have an online bank account under his moms name. It’s almost like she’s still here, he smiled bitterly. Tapping on the flip-phone, he gave the client his thanks.

One bad thing though. Izuku had taken to wearing a green hoodie one time when meeting a client, that along with his green eyes gave him the nickname “Midori”. It was at this point he really wished his last name hadn’t been so on-the-nose. Some had gone around spreading the word about his services, calling him “The Analyst” which made him seem so much scarier than he was. Among his first customers were those who wanted to improve their quirks for physical work, like construction and firefighters. From there it devolved into people with difficult quirks and little money to afford sessions with a quirk counselor. 

Sometimes, there were those with… less than favorable quirks. Not by Izuku of course— he thinks every quirk is amazing— but the rest of society would shun them. Such as mutation quirks. Mirko was a wonderful hero and had a rabbit mutation, but the girl in front of him was shunned because her quirk was too much of a mutation. Her head was a bat mutation with her fingers coming to clawed points with webbed fingers. She didn’t have wings but she did have a long, fluffy tail that suggested she was part lemur from the markings. Her face was scrunched, sharp and small teeth, big eyes… 

Anyone would see a monster. 

“I just— I don’t know what to do! Everything’s just so loud and sunglasses don’t help when m-my eyes are so sensitive,” she whispered to him, sobbing quietly, “And— And I can’t go to a Quirk Counselor because we can’t afford it, and… and everyone’s just so scared…” 

…But Izuku saw a girl. 

She’s just a girl… he saw the bruises and the scars, dear god she’s just a girl. He felt the tears in his eyes, the blur in his vision as the girl sobbed her worries away. Why can’t anybody see that? 

“I wish I never had a quirk…” she sobbed. Izuku heard his heart break. She’s nineteen, she’s been enduring this for so long.

“Your quirk is beautiful.” Izuku blurted, voice cracking. 

The girl snapped her head up, “W-what?” 

“I think it’s amazing. How you can see in the dark and hear so much better than the rest of us… you’re amazing. I don’t think that,” he gently pulled her hands into his, gently squeezing the clawed fingers in his, “I know that.” 

She stared in shock. A moment passed of her just looking at him, completely silent. And then she broke. 

She collapsed bodily and hugged him close. Her cries were heart wrenching, frustrated yells and yips because someone finally saw her. Izuku didn’t see her as something to be feared, but to be admired for her differences and her abilities. He saw that her favorite color was pink, her bracelets all handmade. He saw how she must’ve pierced her own ears, little heart-shaped studs on each ear. He saw and he saw and he saw. 

He hugged her back. He patted her back and he let her cry. She cried until she couldn’t, sobs slowly transitioning into sniffles. Izuku made sure that she only let go when she was well and ready to. When she did pull back, she gave him a smile. 

“Thank you,” her words were watery, “you have— no idea how long it’s been since any one… you just have no idea.” She shook her head. Izuku smiled back. He gave her his brightest smile and patted her arm. 

“It’s hard to live happily when there are people out there who just won’t give you that chance. The world will push you down… there’s just no stopping it.” Izuku found himself speaking from experience. Either from the nature of his quirk or before that— or maybe this girl just needed some hope. He didn’t know. “But there’s one thing you can do.”

“And what’s that?” she sniffled.

“Keep getting back up.” Isn’t that what I’ve been doing, all this time? “The world is a better place with you in it.” 

Those were the words that Izuku so desperately wanted someone to say to him. So, he gave them to this girl. Be the change you want to see, Izuku recalled the quote, huh. 

 

Her eyes welled up again but she scrubbed them away. “Thank you.” She was wracked with sobs again but she stood tall, “Thank you!” 

He went on to tell her that there are special-grade earplugs for those who fly, which helps muffle loud sounds like wind and planes. Then he suggested eye contacts and to see an eye doctor when she had the chance, as they had the resources to help her. Especially a company that works with individuals with quirked eyesight. Additionally, he suggested some bug-based snacks and flours with higher protein to support the diet side of her mutation. He noticed a tremble in her hand and the brittle and patchy nature of her fur. He told her that getting those nutrients would help grow her fur out better. She took all of this advice and paid him (even against his refusals). 

She went to walk away, but then she paused. Looking behind her, she flashed him another smile. 

“I want to become a model.” She told him. 

Izuku grinned back, “I can’t wait to see it.” 

 

That night, he was so glad to be alive. It came to him like an epiphany when he laid in bed, tired but so happy to be there. If I wasn’t here, that girl wouldn’t have a single person in her corner. He clenched his shirt right over where his heart was. I… I helped her. I’m not entirely useless, just like how that girl isn’t scary. 

I want to live. If not just for me, but for people like her. 

He found his reason: he would be a hero to uplift others. In the corners and the dregs of society, he wanted to be like All Might. He wanted to reach his hand out and say I am here! 

He couldn’t stop smiling, I did that! 

 

 

~~~~~~~~

Notes:

Sorry for posting late, I had to take care of some things. I'm up to about chapter 12 right now and I've hit something of a road block. I'm half tempted to stop traumatizing Izuku and just skip to UA but ... I don't think I will.

Chapter 9: Again, Again, Again

Summary:

Izuku's bad friend, old past, and former friend Bakugou.

Notes:

WARNINGS: References to child abuse, suicide, violence, the usual

Izuku was starting to look forward to every day. 

He still has bad days where everything is too heavy on his shoulders and the memory of his mother is too much but… Then he had really good days. His situation would look dreadful to any sane person, he wasn’t disillusioned about that. But being like this? He felt free. Free from the shackles that previously held his head under water. Free from the dirty looks and nasty insults— absolutely free. He was scarred now, but that was his price for— whatever he had now. 

 

He still missed her. He still woke up some nights, crying into his pillow and hugging her sweaters. Every day he felt the hole in his heart. Eventually, he learned to work around it. He allowed himself to miss her while also trying not to think too much about the loss. It was difficult but he did it. 

Izuku allowed himself to feel a little proud. 

I also stopped— er— killing myself so often. He still did for experimentation, but he never went as far as to do it to silence his mind. He figured that was unhealthy in the long run. The scar on his neck already made him self-conscious, so he spared himself from the embarrassment of a few more. If he could help it. Since then, he had a few more scars on his body. Two long, thin scars running down the middle of his forearm to his wrists. He had also taken to working out a bit, so his hands were a bit callous. 

 

School started up and after some research, Izuku found an online school. The school was advertised to parents who prefer homeschooling and children who find a classroom environment too overwhelming due to their quirk. Or lack thereof, Izuku thought bitterly. The classes were set up as courses to complete without predetermined class times. For big tests and final exams there would be a test monitored by either an advanced bot or a person. But Izuku wasn’t sure. He signed up and did a placement exam shortly after finding the site. At the moment, he was starting his first few courses. All of this was done on his mother's old laptop, one of the things he almost forgot about in his move from the home. Every time he touched the keyboard he imagined his mom right there with him… he didn't let himself linger too long when it came to that laptop. 

 

And he made some new friends! If, that is, you considered people who kidnapped you once and contacted you mysteriously to be your friends. It came as a text to his burner phone stating how they knew him and where to meet— Izuku was frightened half to death by the text. When he did decide to show up, Kurogiri and Shigaraki greeted him by the door (or just grumbled in Shigaraki’s case) and sent him to play games with Tomura. After an hour of fumbling through games, the two sent him back home with a personal number he could contact them from. Shigaraki had invited him over to play games, Dabi occasionally talked to him, and Kurogiri was like a butler-parent. Then, one day, Shigaraki decided it was time to talk. 

“We used to be called the League Of Villains, you know.” 

“You what.” Izuku turned to Shigaraki. Shigaraki didn’t even spare him a look while they walked down the sidewalk. Brave to uh… confess that on a public sidewalk. 

Shigaraki didn’t elaborate until his home (?) was in sight. Really, it was a little block of a building with a bar downstairs that Kurogiri ran. But Shigaraki kinda did live there. 

Shigaraki stopped, looking over his shoulder at Izuku. His face was void of any emotion, only looking down at Izuku for a moment before speaking again. “My sensei started it all. He promised me a world where I could destroy everything that hurt me, and he created the group with the promise of more members. His goal was to create a perfect world… I still don’t understand it. I don’t understand much of anything that he wanted, but he always wanted what I wanted. He raised me and gave me power. But then…” 

Izuku furrowed his brows. Shigaraki looked angry, but his lip was wobbling too. More than anything, he looked so confused. “…and then?” Izuku pressed. 

 

“He… He disappeared five years ago.” Shigaraki looked Izuku in the eyes, letting a stray tear fall down his face. “Kurogiri wouldn't tell me what happened. So I went out and found out for myself.” Shigaraki gripped his jacket with pinkies jutting out, grip uneven. Rage burning in his eyes. “He was killed.” 

 

Izuku wanted to believe that Shigaraki was a villain. By telling Izuku that he was a part of such an organization and what he wanted, Izuku wholeheartedly wanted to believe that Shigaraki wasn't a good person. Not everyone can be good. Some people have to settle in the grey area— and some are pushed over the edge. Knowing that, Izuku couldn’t see Shigaraki as evil, as much as he’d like to.

Shigaraki looked far too much like a boy. Izuku knew what he wanted to say. Saying it would only give him nightmares later, and put his heart through a shredder as he did it but… He understood that anger. He’d felt it before. 

“My mom— my mom was killed.” Izuku confessed. “I watched it happen.” His face screwed up, throat tightening as grief washed over him. 

 

Shigaraki regarded him. Nodding, he added, “… I can’t remember my mom. Sometimes I can see her, but it’s hard to remember.” Shigaraki itched his neck. After a breath he asked Izuku, “What was she like?” 

Izuku smiled. Perhaps a bit involuntarily— thinking about her every move in his mind. The warm blanket that wrapped these memories made him unspeakably sad, but he couldn’t help but smile. “She was… everything.” 

 

“Life was hard for people—people like me. I would come home after a day of being beaten down, and she would be there.” A tear crawled down his cheek as he smiled, “She knew my favorite foods, she hugged me often, She was always there for me— but most importantly, she was my hero.”

Shigaraki grimaced, “Your hero?” 

“Without her, I would’ve died so much sooner.” Was all Izuku elaborated on, letting Shigaraki come to his own conclusions. Which, he did. 

“I think sensei was like that for me too. Ever since He died, Kurogiri started acting weird. He kept telling me that Sensei was hurting me but I… I don’t get it. I wish I did but all I want to do is get revenge.” His teeth were bared now, rage in his eyes as he stared into the far distance. 

“Why?” 

“What?” Shigaraki snapped, “What do you mean why?” 

“Why do you want to get revenge?”

“Because— because he killed my Sensei! He killed all I had! Sensei said that he was always going to… to…” shigaraki was still angry. But his eyebrows ticked up in his scrambled thoughts. 

“You have Kurogiri. I’ve seen how he cares about you, he’s been supporting you since then, hasn’t he?” Izuku waited for Shigaraki to think. “Did your Sensei ever hurt you?” 

Shigaraki flinched, going still. 

 

“I’m not saying it’s okay that he hurt you, but if he did… look, I-i used to have a friend who would hurt me. He didn’t mean it when we were younger but he still hurt me and it still— still hurt, Y’know?” It was depressing to be your own therapist. 

“Kurogiri’s been with me for as long as I can remember.” Shigaraki closed his eyes, “…And he’s still here.” 

They stood there, awkward silence falling over them as Izuku had no idea what to say next. There was one thing that was nagging at him though. 

 

“Why are you telling me? Y-you can’t possibly trust me that much.” 

An eerie grin cracked across Shigaraki’s face. “Because you, cannot die.” Something in the way he said that had Izuku shivering in fear. 

 

“What do you mean by that…?”

 

“Even if I tell you this, you will not die of it. If All Might himself were to cave your skull in, you wouldn't die of it!” 

 

Izuku was shaking now, the look in Tomura’s eye… “w—why would you say th-that?” He took a step back, only to be snatched up by his shoulders in Shigaraki’s decaying grip. 

“You wouldn't die… even if All Might pummeled you to pieces!” His face inched forward, the red piercing through the dark sky and Izuku was too scared to move. “Just like he did to All For One!” 

“TOMURA!” 

Shigaraki flinched back, dropping Izuku to the ground. Izuku landed with a whimper and a scream— his shoulders were bleeding. He decayed my skin, he wanted to throw up. He did throw up. He leaned to the side of the road and lost his dinner across it, bile burning his throat. Kurogiri, Izuku saw him now, He saw. 

 

“Tomura what are you doing?” he sounded… angry. And scared. “You can’t mention that name you know that! And you’ve gone and hurt your friend!” Kurogiri gave Shigaraki a firm shake before kneeling down to Izuku. The quickly bleeding boy barely met his eyes, sobbing in pain as gravel hit his exposed muscle. “Shit.” 

“He’ll be fine! He won’t die!” 

“Whether he dies or not is not relevant here! You’ve hurt him, Tomura,” the pain etched his voice, disappointment heavy in his tone, “I thought we talked about this…” 

“We—we have!” Shigaraki leaped forward now. He put gloves on and hastily helped pick Izuku up, Izuku could see the fear of abandonment now. “I’ve been getting better, have—haven’t I? I—I talk to that lady and I don’t destroy—!” He’s so much like a kid. He’s older than me but he feels like a child. 

“You need to work on your empathy, Tomura. Remember what we talked about? How would you feel if your friend hurt you like this?” Kurogiri was so calm now, carrying Izuku’s bloodied body inside. Izuku knew he wouldn't die from the wound which sucked. Looks like Shigi was right about that. Also, it looks like Kurogiri is trying to reform this guy… good for him. Izuku was still sobbing and scared out of his mind, but eventually the bone-deep fear circled back to absolute calm. 

“…not good.” Tomura pouted.

“Yes, that is correct. Now, what will you do after we help Suiu address his wounds?” 

Tomura seemed to think for a second. Then, his face scrunched up like he had eaten a lemon. “Apologize.” 

“Good. That’s good, Tomura.” Kurogiri’s eyes brightened and squished like he was smiling, “You’re improving!” 

Shigaraki’s face stopped looking so sour. Izuku would go so far as to say he looked happy when Kurogiri complimented him. Also, Izuku’s back had hit the couch. 

 

Stars bloomed in his vision while he whimpered, bleeding helplessly while Kurogiri supported his back. They forced him to stay sitting up, removing his long sleeved shirt and wrapping his wounds. They skipped disinfecting it. Kurogiri’s hand supported his upper body by the elbows, making the boy look him in the eyes. 

“Suiu,” he began gently, “I know you said you only heal after you die, so I’ll give you two options: you can either heal naturally—“ Izuku groaned loudly, prompting Kurogiri to continue, “—Or, I can carry you to the bathroom and retrieve a weapon of your choice. One or two?” 

 

Izuku held up his hand. 

 

“Option two. Okay.” Kurogiri heaved Izuku up and trudged to the bathroom. He slipped Izuku into the bathtub while making sure he was comfortable. “Do you want a knife, a gun, maybe some poison?” his voice was strained with emotion. Anyone's would be; offering a child a way to kill themselves is no simple task. 

 

“G—gun…” he gasped out, “it—it’s the q-quickest…” 

 

Suddenly the heavy weight of a gun was in his hand. Izuku blinked down at the weapon. Kurogiri stood up and dusted his hands, plucking at the spots of blood on his white button-up. 

 

“I’ll come back in an hour. If you get up before that you can shower and find me at the bar.” He turned to go but paused. 

 

“If there’s any damage to the wall, don’t worry about it.” 

 

Izuku smiled in lieu of a thank you. 

 

Once Kurogiri was well and gone, he pressed the cold metal against the scar on his head. It’s bad that I miss this. 

 

———

 

Izuku blinked up at the ceiling. It wasn't textured like his mom’s was. Izuku sat up in the tub, seeing the crusted blood on his hands and some on his sides. A small trail swirled from where he was to the drain. He got up and locked the bathroom door. Might as well shower. 

 

Izuku paid for a gym, which in turn meant that he had access to a shower. But the comforts of a gym shower and a real bathroom were not the same. Plus, he didn’t have to sneak around people to shower here. That small tap of water near his place-of-choice was a godsend already. Izuku splayed a hand over his new scar, turning the tap on. 

What did I do wrong? And did All Might really kill someone named All for One? A pit began to form in his stomach. I shouldn’t know this. Just going off of Kurogiri’s emotional reaction, Izuku knew he shouldn’t have known any of this.

 

He scrubbed until the blood was gone. My hands are cold, Izuku frowned, colder than usual. Getting out, he quickly dried his hair and put his sweatpants back on. Dread filled him. 

 

He walked out. His breathing was calm, his heartbeat was slow, his hands were still. These people aren’t villains. 

 

“Suiu.” Kurogiri greeted from the bar. “Shigaraki would like to apologize for his behavior.” 

Shigaraki was sitting at the bar, staring. His eyes were blood red. Izuku’s skin began to itch. Apologize? There was ash on his tongue. 

 

“I’m— I’m sorry, for hurting you earlier. I don’t know why I did that.” Shigaraki looked away. 

 

“…why?” Izuku found himself asking, “why did you hurt me?” It wasn't phrased like a question. Izuku knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it. Years of being hurt and blamed, black marks scarring his record and his skin— he wanted to hear it from his mouth. Why did you hurt me, he was livid and itching all over, go on, tell me Kacchan. 

 

Shigaraki kept his head down. Izuku’s hands clenched into fists. He won’t even look at me. He should be ashamed but he needs to look. He needs to see. It reminded him of Bakugo the first time he hurt Izuku with his quirk. He was so shocked, so scared. Shame painted his features then and he refused to look Izuku in the eye. Refused to see his bleeding form. 

 

Now he stared down Shigaraki. Blond, angry, red eyed… Shigaraki.

 

“Look at me!” He yelled. Shigaraki flinched and looked up, staring fearfully at Izuku, scanning him. The scars, you see them. Not just the scars on his shoulders, but every last cut, burn, shot and mangled bit of his form. “Look at me. Why did you hurt me.” 

Shigaraki didn’t answer. “I know why. It was easy, it was okay, it made you feel better, it was a complete accident but you know it wasn't. It made you feel in control. Am I getting it right? You did it because you could, because I wouldn’t die from it but it still hurt.” Izuku smiled, so wide and bitterly at Shigaraki. “Am. I. Correct?” 

Shigaraki looked away again. “You don’t have to answer, no… now I know. All that power and you use it to hurt someone who can’t fight back. You hurt me.” 

“I don't know why, okay?!” Shigaraki yelled, “you– I didn't mean to do it! I just–...” His face fell, solemn. “... I wanted to make sure you wouldn't disappear on me.”

Izuku could relate. God did he relate, but this? This was not the way to go about it. If my mom had my quirk then maybe…. He clenched his jaw.

He grabbed his hoodie off the couch and walked out. Izuku knew it was important to make the distinction that this boy was not Katsuki. Katsuki hurt him deliberately over and over, kicking him down for no reason other than that he was weak. He could understand that. He was weak, and useless, and whatever other name there was. But to hurt him because he wanted Izuku to stay…? It made no sense to him. Deku’s don't have friends. 

Trudging down the street, he felt his phone ring in his pocket. Flipping it open revealed a text from Kurogiri. “I'm truly sorry for what happened. You aren't obligated to contact us again after this. We will not trouble you further.” Kurogiri somehow knew how to make being emotionally stunted look like a profession. To go as far as to say that they wouldn't trouble him again… honestly Izuku prefers it more if people just ghost him. 

 

I can’t believe I actually tried being friends with him. 

He ignored the itch, the pain and the fear. Memories of a certain blonde filled his head and that hurt so much more than whatever he could have felt. I can’t believe I thought I could have friends at all. 

After all, deep down, I’m still a quirkless kid.

 

————

 

Bakugo felt like he was being crushed. The weight of his actions played over in his head, burned into his eyelids so he couldn’t escape them even in his dreams. Day after day it was nightmares of his childhood best friend telling him the worst things about himself. The worst part is that it was true. Pathetic, bully, cruel. These words all spat out by a pale face, scrunched up in pure rage. 

These dreams were cut in by visions of a broken body at the foot of a building, blood pooling and touching Katsuki’s shoes. Izuku looked so small. So skinny, pale… he’s always been pale, but this white was the ashen tones of a corpse. He remembered that color from Izuku’s last days at school. His under eyes were purple too, matching the color of bruises. I did that, he thought, I could have done that. He remembers many a night now when the nightmares would get too real— how he would rush to the bathroom and throw up from the twisting spike of his gut. 

 

Bakugo would stop by the station when it got especially bad. One day, he decided that hanging around wasn't enough, so he headed in. This guy named Detective Tsukauchi greeted him, said he was a part of “The Midoriya case” and pressed Katsuki for any details. Katsuki wanted to fight this guy but ended up shrugging it off. He’s always been good about rolling with the punches. Katsuki had a question of his own.

 

“Have you found him yet? Or anything about where he is?” He sounded desperate, he knew that, but…

“…no.” Tsukauchi sighed, “I’m sorry, kid. The department has already tried to rule him out as dead but there’s someone on the force who knew him, so his case is still open. No new details though.” 

“Dammit nerd, where are you…” Katsuki whispered to himself, down at his lap. He said it so fondly he barely believed it came out of his mouth. Looking back up he asked the detective: “Someone in the department knew him? Have they seen him at all?” 

“Unfortunately, no. But, he is looking for Midoriya currently.”

“Y’know how fuckin’ vague you’re being? Just tell me who he is!” 

“Okay, okay, fine. It’s not like it’ll harm him…” Tsukauchi huffed, “Pro Hero EraserHead.”

Bakugo’s eyes bugged out, “A pro hero?! Shit! All you gotta do is offer him an autograph and you’ve got him!” Katsuki gestured wildly, suddenly excited. “I don’t know the name, but I’ll bet you that D— that nerd does.” 

Tsukauchi’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Is he a big hero fan?” 

“A big hero fan?! He is the hero fan! He probably knows the legal name of every hero you can think of! He goes to villain fights and writes in his little notebooks too, has just about every detail you can think about in there.” Katsuki chuffed, looking a little sad now, “Everything you think you know about that guy? Izuku knows more.” 

“Do you think we could find Izuku by luring him out?”

“Maybe. If you’re in his area and he knows you’re there— if you’re a hero fighting— he’ll be there, writing in his little notebook.”

“Like cheese in a trap…” 

“Stop. That was cringey as fuck.” 

“Although… you know what? I’ll try. I’ll call him and see what we can do.” 

“I seriously doubt you can do much.” Katsuki got up and started walking out, Tsukauchi saw no reason to stop him from leaving. As Katsuki walked to the office doors, the idea of them luring him out like that seemed like the stupidest idea on the planet. 

But he still had hope. “Hey,” his hand rested on the door knob, “Call me if you find anything.” 

 

When he walked out he barely heard Tsukauchi’s agreement, but he did. Katsuki had never realized how much he would come to regret what he did. In some way, he’d always been reaching out to Izuku. in some terrible, twisted way…

Outside the departments walls, Katsuki felt like the world was judging his every move. His eyes tore down to the sidewalk with his hands shoved into his pockets. He felt ashamed. 

 

They always say that you don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I can’t be a hero like this. To save people, he had to stop being the perpetrator. Izuku had turned in the keys and disappeared, Katsuki knew it was time for a change. The wake-up call was very much needed. He decided to start with the little things. 

 

“Mom, I’m home!” Katsuki yelled much softer than usual. Stop calling my mom a hag. 

“Katsuki?” She sounded surprised, “Did you stop by the station?”

“…yeah.” Two, stop being a jerk all of the time. “Turns out they’ve got a pro hero on the case, too.” 

 

“I didn’t know they could put pro heroes on cases like this…” When Katsuki rounded the corner, he saw her in the kitchen watching over a pot. Katsuki went to sit down at the table. 

“They don’t. This guy apparently knew Izuku.” Katsuki gruffed. “Don’t know how he would.” 

 

They both sat there in the silence for a minute, with Mitsuki stirring whatever she was making every few minutes. She turned to glance at katsuki. 

 

“Kat, is everything okay?” 

Shit, Katsuki realized his leg was bouncing. And he was quiet. Being loud was sort of his default, so complete silence with him in the room was troubling. Katsuki felt a little peeved by her question though. 

 

“Izuku is missing.” 

“Well. Yes, he is. But you’ve been acting differently. So, I wanted to broach this subject with you…” she paused, pursing her lips as if considering her words. “How would you feel about talking to someone about this?”

“Talking….to someone.” He gave her a bland look. 

“Yes. A trained professional who can help you through this. It won’t just be you, I’ll be taking some too and make Masaru come with me,” she chuckled. “But the option is there. It’s supposed to give you an outlet for this stuff.”

“How would talking to some nerd with a PhD help Izuku?” Katsuki could not see the use in this. Right now, his mind was elsewhere. 

“It’s not supposed to help Izuku, it’s supposed to help you. While I understand why you’re so worried— and I’m worried for Izuku too— you are my first priority. You can still fret over the details and go to the station, but therapy would be a good way to occupy your mind in the meantime.” Katsuki could tell that she was struggling with being patient. It was something she often was not, just like Katsuki. So he heard her out even if it felt like betraying Izuku. 

“…okay,” he gritted out, “If I agree to go will you get off my back?” He wanted so badly to get mad. But his statement sounded more like teenage angst and sass than any real anger. 

“Hah! Sure Kat, if you actually go to therapy I’ll get off your case.” She smirked, stirring whatever mystery stew she had going on. 

 

“…”

 

“…”

“Okay what the fuck are you stirring in that pot.”

“Oh I’m dying this old dress of mine. Thought it would look better black.” She stirred it again. Katsuki felt his eyebrow twitch. 

“Ffff—-great. Okay. What should we make for dinner?” Katsuki got up and began the honors of searching their fridge. 

 

“There is some leftover udon, that and maybe we could use the rest of our curry…”

 

———-

 

Katsuki flopped down into bed with a sigh. 

 

Schools in full swing, his fist clenched, his desk is empty. He closed his eyes and took a breath. He really hoped Izuku found a new school— that he really did just move away. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t let himself give up so easily. He always wanted to go to UA. The thought hit him with more emotion than he wanted it to. His eyes watered when they met his ceiling again. 

You promised we could be heroes together, his hand reached out. A memory, so faint it felt unreal, called to him. A tan, freckled hand reached for his in his minds’ eye. 

 

So where are you? 

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Notes:

I haven't slept for 24 hours. Bye bye!

Chapter 10: HOPE?

Summary:

The Beginning of Hope! The All Might Escapade and more Izuku Background!

Notes:

WARNINGS: implied past child abuse, suicidal thoughts etc ... Definitely a lighter chapter. It can only get darker from here

Izuku just wanted to take the scenic route through his old neighborhood. So why did it end up like this? 

 

He was happy, bouncing with each step while scribbling in his notebook. Today he had on his All Might hoodie— a favorite of his— just as he had learned where his mother’s grave was. He should have been sad but… he was ecstatic to learn she had a grave near their old home. A smile ached his face as he scratched away with his pencil. He took his trusty yellow backpack with him and filled it with some effects to gift to her grave— it was like a bag of bricks but he shouldered the weight easily. For her. 

He couldn't remember how he got into that walkway. He was so focused on his mother and his notebook, he hadn’t watched where he was going. When he did finally come-to, he was face to face with the twisted and ugly face of a sludge villain. When the sludge crawled down his throat he could only claw weakly at the plyable slime. He sobbed but the tears never fell. Black spots formed in his eyes and he felt the slow crawl of death in his heart. The base instinct of himself clawed to the forefront of his mind, back from his last days at middle school. His mind shrieked for help, for someone to save him– for his mom– but no one answered. I'm going to die, his consciousness whispered, I'm so sorry Mom, I couldn’t help it this time.

 

Painful memories flashed before his eyes– but the light did too. The first time he saw a hero at work, the first time someone stood up for him. The visage of his mother– eyes wild and hair glowing in the sunlight– called him like a dream. His side screamed in pain but he felt it wash away. His mother stood between him and the Monster, arms spread and jaw set in determination. 

“Stay away from my son!” she screamed, “I won’t let you hurt him any more!!” 

Dust in the air swirled around her, collecting like magic and reflecting the light. She was exhausted, scratched up and disheveled… but she stood taller than any hero before her. tears pricked his eyes, warmth and safety washing over him. He could hardly imagine the strength it took for her to stand that tall in the face of the Monster. She could have ran. Izuku prayed and screamed for her to run. She could have left her son and protected herself… 

But she refused. 

When things seemed impossible, it was his mom that didn't give up. 

 

—------------

A hand impacted on his cheek and he coughed up the sludge. Blearily, he watched as golden hair swam into view and blocked the light at the end of the tunnel. That memory… 

 

“Ah! You're awake!” The cheery american-accented voice greeted. 

Izuku was suddenly sitting up, ramrod straight and staring in disbelief. All Might crouched near him, villain in a bottle and tucked away. 

“All--All Might!!” Izuku scrambled for his notebook, flipping to a blank page “Could you sign–!” 

He had already signed the page, as Izuku could see. Izuku gaped in awe. Then, All Might got up, putting his hands on his hips. 

“Well my boy, I'll be off! Have to take this villain to the authorities,” All Might turned away, “Have a nice day!”

“Wait!! I- I have a question!” without thinking, Izuku gripped onto All Might's leg as he jumped off. All Might scrambled, looking back in panic. 

“What are you doing?! Let go!”

“I– I can't! I'll dieeee!!!” wind whipped against his face and chilled his cheeks as they flew through the air. Eventually, they landed on a rooftop with All Might flustered and worried. 

 

“That was extremely dangerous, young man! You could have seriously hurt yourself!”

“I know! I know I could've d--died but i… I just had to ask!” Izuku kept his eyes on his shoes as his heart clenched, but All Might went to leave. Izuku knew exactly the type of damage a fall from that height meant. He just didn’t care.

“I don't have time! I have to go, if you bang on the door for a while someone will let you in,” He waved before coming to the edge of the roof. 

 

“Wait! I–!” he stumbled over his words. What could he say? what could he possibly say to the number one hero at this moment, when all he was… was just a quirkless kid. A dead, quirkless kid. His heart thumped it’s slow rhythm, clenching his fists to his side. He thought about his mother, he thought about how weak he was, and he thought about the times he failed to protect people… then he thought about the weight of a girl, the shoulder he gave, and the weak weight of his mother. quirkless, Izuku thought, But not powerless. 

“Is it possible to become a hero even if I don't have a quirk?” he looked up then at All Might’s retreating figure, which faltered at his words. I'm as good as quirkless. “I'm just a kid… without any powers– even so! could I ever hope to be like you?” 

All Might paused. Izuku closed his eyes, scared and nervous, not knowing what All Might would say. I’m lying. That’s not me. But he couldn’t tell All Might what a freak he was. 

“without a quirk…?” then All Might started coughing, mist surrounding him. Izuku looked up when the smoke fogged a corner of his vision. When he looked up, he screamed at the sight of a scrawny man in All Mights clothes. 

 

“You!! who are you!!” The man coughed up some blood as Izuku screamed again, “There's no way! where did All Might go!?”

“I assure you that I am–” he coughed again, “You know when guys at the pool are suckin’ in to look all buff? yeah, i'm like that.”

“no… but, All Might is a giant of a man who– who wins the day and saves everyone with a fearless smile…”

“there's plenty of fear behind that smile,” he lifted up his shirt to show a nasty scar that Izuku flinched back from, “Pretty gross, right? got this in a big fight five years back, and my respiratory system was basically destroyed. I also lost my whole stomach… All the surgeries have worn me out and it can't be fixed, and right now I can only do hero work for about three hours a day,” He grumbled lowly in a tone so unlike the All Might Izuku knew. “the rest of the time? This is what I look like. “

Midoriya flinched back once again, “no way… 5 years ago? w-wasn't that the fight with toxic chainsaw?”

“Wow, you really know your stuff… but no, a lowlife villain like him couldn't take me down,” Here he sighed, frown etched on his frail face, “I kept this fight away from the public. If people knew that the symbol of peace was beaten… you can probably imagine the havoc that would ensue. The always smiling, symbol of peace. People have to think that im never afraid, to keep their hopes up, but honestly…I smile to hide the fear inside.” He looked up at Izuku now, jaw set in the horror of the truth. “It's a brave face I put on when the pressure is high. Being a pro hero isn't easy, and some Villains can't be beaten without some kind of power,” his eyes turned cold, Izuku's heart sunk, “so can you be a hero? not without a quirk.”

If Izuku's heart could shatter any further, it would be pulverized by now. His legs shook in the realization of what he had said. The number one hero told him that he couldn't be a hero. What other proof did he need? Why do I even try anymore? 

“If you want to help people there are plenty of other ways to do it,” The man began to step towards the door, “Become a police officer– they get crap because the heroes capture most of the villains, but it's a fine profession.”

Just before he left, he said, “It’s not bad to have a dream young man, just… be realistic.” 

 

and then he left. 

 

Izuku was shocked out of his stupor by an explosion, deep off in the city. deep down, he wanted to go see which hero would show up but he refrained from his excitement. so he walked calmly away towards the site. I could never be a hero, he whimpered, someone like me could never be a hero. 

 

—------

 

By the time izuku made it to the scene of the crime, he had thoroughly beat down his heart. I shouldn’t even be here, I should be visiting mom. There was fire all around, thick smoke crawling to the sky and heroes on standby. He slipped into the crowd to watch the fight– No! The sludge villain was right there! no… if he dropped the bottle then…

 

It was all my fault.

 

cold dread drowned his soul. “I heard that the villain captured some kid…” That kid is still alive? I thought I died after a few seconds… “Where is all might? can't we call him?” No no no it's all my fault… All Might can't help them, and none of the heroes have the quirk to help… 

 

There’s nothing I could have done. 

 

“why…” Suddenly, a flicker of rage welled up in him, “...why isn't anyone helping that kid?” someone…! someone help him! anyone!! That familiar fighting feeling rushed through him, A real hero needs to help that kid!! The feeling was so familiar, the rage of seeing his mother barely comforted. 

Then Katsuki made eye contact with Izuku, eyes brimming with fear. He was going to watch him die. Like how he watched his mother die. A cold weight settled in his arms but he refused to cradle it.

 

There is something I can do!

 

He was running, he didn't feel his legs moving but he was rushing towards the villain. “No you idiot!!” a hero yelled, “ You’re gonna get yourself killed!!”

But he didn’t stop, not for a moment. He was scared, sure, but he was determined. I can't stop my legs, he gulped down the fear, But I have to help him!! He remembered the old man then. He surged forward, ignoring the concerned cries of heroes and the crowd– he gripped his backpack and flung it towards the sludge villain's eyes. The villain tried to reach out and grab Izuku but faltered when his eye was pierced. 

 

“GRRAH!!!” it cried. 

The sludge seeped off Katsuki and he sucked in a breath. Izuku grabbed the slimy skin of the villain and began scooping it off of Katsuki. 

“Kacchan!!” he yelled. 

“What the hell?! why are you here?!” He responded with growing confusion and surprise— less anger than Izuku anticipated.

“I–” Izuku wanted to say he didn't know why he helped Katsuki, but he knew exactly why, “I Couldn't just stand by and watch you get killed!!” Izuku's skin– no— his entire body felt like it was boiling over. He grunted in frustration as the skin tightened around Katsuki and clawed at it even harder. 

This time, the Villain screamed and tried to thrash Izuku away. The fire that blazed around the two started whipping towards the two and fast. It licked up the sides of the villain and nearly engulfed Izuku. He felt them swelter against his hoodie as he finally got far enough to grab Katsuki's wrist and heave him out. Bakugou held his hand– gripping it hard with no intention of letting go. Explosions sounded across his palm but he didn't flinch. With the other hand, Katsuki blew up the spot where the villain clung to him. The resulting blast had the two boys rushing multiple feet away, slamming into the scorching concrete. 

The villain went to swing for the two boys, but a rush of wind barreled forward and slammed into the villain. 

Looking up, Izuku’s eyes widened and his lip wobbled— in front of him stood All Might, blood dripping from his mouth. 

“I really am pathetic…”

“All Might…!” 

 

“I told you the traits to make a great champion–” he grunted, struggling under the Villain's strength, “But now I see I wasn't living up to my own ideal!” His arm ripped away from the villain’s grip. Blood sprayed from his mouth as Izuku watched his time limit shrink, “Pro's are always risking their lives– That's the true test of a hero!!”

His fist pulled back, muscles rippling and ready to decimate the villain, “Detroit….!!”

 

“DAMN YOU ALL MIGHT!!” the sludge screeched.

 

“SMASH!!!” 

 

The sky swirled from the force, wind rushing back with incredible pressure and the Sludge parted like the red sea. The villain was nothing but a puddle now, and rain began to fall on the scene. Izuku's vision spotted out, mind slipping momentarily as he thought: I can't believe it… he made it rain with one punch…

 

A moment of silence passed, awe from the crowd stopping all sound. The patter of rain was so peaceful against Izuku’s ears that he almost forgot about Katsuki. Almost. When the rain dripped down his nose he quickly wiped it away with his sleeve.

Katsuki looked at him so strangely then… “Izuku…” he whispered, eyes wide. 

Surprised by the name, he swiveled to look at Katsuki. His eyes were red rimmed and steadily watering. Freaked out by this sudden show of emotion from his usually angry counterpart, Izuku clutched Katsuki’s shoulders. 

“Are you okay?!” 

“…” That profound look of sadness slipped, giving way for a smirk. “Only you would ask me that in a situation like this.” 

A hero finally sauntered into the view of the two teens, looking utterly disappointed. Izuku frowned. Lazy hero. He knew that he shouldn’t be mean but… Katsuki almost died because of their negligence. Quickly, that frown turned into a hatred-filled scowl. Katsuki flinched.

“You. Both of you, let’s get you to the medics.” The hero snarled like he wanted to say more. Izuku practically dared him to. But he decided to help Katsuki up instead of argue. 

 

Katsuki couldn’t stop staring. 

Izuku jogged over and grabbed his bag, hopping to the back of the ambulance where Katsuki already was. A shock blanket was quickly thrown around the two before the heroes stomped over. 

“What the hell were you thinking kid! You could have died!” One scolded. “Leave it to the heroes next time!” 

Katsuki kept one eye on Izuku while another hero complimented Katsuki. Izuku felt his eye twitch. 

“Leave it. To the heroes?” He was so calm. His face twitched and twisted but he was as calm as a river. Deep down, just under the surface, he was boiling with rage. Do you actually consider yourself a hero?

“Yes! You jumped in and you could have died if All Might hadn’t arrived.” The hero crossed his arms and huffed. 

“I could have died? Katsuki could have died!” He jumped up, standing close into the hero’s space. Katsuki scooted back and watched. “If you did your damn job then maybe I wouldn’t have had to jump in! If Katsuki died then it. Would. Be. On. YOU.” He poked the chest of the hero with each exclamation. The hero stumbled back. 

“We didn’t have the right quirk—!”

“I DON'T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK! If some quirkless child did your job better than you then you need to have your license revoked!” His hands went up in the air while he snarled. “Think! You could have done something, anything! Instead, you chose to let a kid die because you felt like you didn’t have the right quirk. BOO HOO! People die every day for half the negligence you showed today!” He wasn’t angry. No no… he was enraged. His mother died due to this sort of negligence— hanging back. If he wasn’t there, he wouldn’t just be missing his mother. He was way past pissed. 

The hero put his hands up, looking down fearfully at the teen shaking with rage in front of him. He didn’t utter a word. 

“If you were even a third of the hero you claim to be, you would've seen the obvious weakness that sludge villain had. Next time, do your damn job before you get somebody killed.” 

Izuku turned to leave— oh god. 

 

Cameras. Cameras everywhere and all on him. He froze. Cameras flashed, he didn’t know what to do. The earlier anger fizzled out so quickly he went cold. Run. His mind urged him. 

 

And he did. He ran through the crowd and shoved heroes out of the way as they tried to stop him. Somewhere around the way he had to dodge one of Mt. Lady’s legs and she squealed. 

 

—-

Izuku looked down at the road on his way to his warehouse. I was chewed out by the heroes for helping Kacchan but… I wouldn't have done anything differently. Izuku was past exhausted and beaten, but he knew one thing for sure. 

If I was able to help Kacchan, then I don't need anyone to tell me how to be a hero. I was able to save more people before this too.

 He was able to save Katsuki, even if he wasn't the one who beat the villain. His eyes watered at the thought of the heroes never being able to help Katsuki, or if All Might hadn't helped, or if Izuku never stepped forward. 

What the hell have I gotten myself into? He could have never imagined in a million years that he would meet All Might. Or save his childhood bully from a villain. He took a sidelong look behind him at about where the scene of the attack would be. That was a little stressful. A little was the understatement of the century. If he squinted, he could still see the smoke from the fire. And then I got to chew out that hero.

Chuffing out a bit of laughter at the ridiculousness of it, he turned around. 

 

“I AM HERE!!” 

“UUWAHHHH!!!” 

All might slid out in front of Izuku, posing dramatically in the face of Izuku’s embarrassing screaming. 

“A--All Might!!” he stuttered, “where did you come from?? how did you get rid of all those reporters?” 

All Might laughed clear into the sky, striking a pose, “I stand for justice– not sound bites!!” he began to flex his arms like a body-builder, “Because I am ALL MI— bbblrgg!!!” He poofed down into his frail form, splurting blood from his mouth like a hose as Izuku yelled in shock. 

“KKrg–” he coughed, wiping the blood away, breathing in and looking at Izuku, “Young man, I came here to thank you. But also to discuss your question from earlier.”

Izuku's eyes sparkled and he gasped lightly. Two heart to hearts in one day? I’m gonna get a heart attack…

“...If you hadn't told me about your life; if you hadn't run into that fight; I would've been a worthless bystander watching from the crowd… So thanks.” 

“Oh! oh no– it was my fault, really… I got in the way of your work, I wasted your time and your energy…”

“I'm not done,” He affirmed, “You told me you didn't have a power, but when I saw this timid, quirkless boy try to save a life it inspired me to act too.”

Izuku looked back at him in awe.

“There are stories about every hero, how they became great. Most have one thing in common: their bodies moved before they had a chance to think, almost on their own.”

Izuku’s tearful eyes welled up again, feeling his lip wobble at the mention of the same thing he felt. The same thing my mother must have gone through. 

she moved when she could have risked her life– but she saved me. He remembered the dread of his diagnosis, but it washed away when his mother blocked the heat of hatred from his eyes. 

 

“...and today, that's what happened to you.”

 

The tears seared his face as they flowed down. He watched them wet the walkway and he remembered his mother's words: “I won't let you hurt him anymore!” He remembered how she promised her that he would become a hero like her someday. 

His throat closed up and he choked on his tears. His heart clenched at the memory and the dream of being a hero. 

 

Machines beeped around him, his mother at his bedside as tears slipped down her cheeks. Izuku smiled though. Through the fear and the pain, he smiled up at his hero and wished her every victory. 

“mom,” he said, tinny and frail but with all his strength, “I'm going to be a Hero like you when I grow up.”

His mom looked at him then, so small and sadly– like all the world had done him wrong.

“Izuku I–” she choked, “I wasn't able to– to save you in the end… I'm so sorry Izuku…”

But Izuku only shook his head, “That's not right….” he still smiled, “I think that you had a little bit of All Might in you… You really did save me.” Inko sobbed further, gathering the boy in her arms and crying into his hospital gown, “Thank you, mom.”

“Theres no other hero like you in the whole world,” he gripped her warm shirt and finally let himself cry with her, the pain giving way to the warmth of relief.

 

“Young man,” All Might declared, “You too can become a hero.”

he clenched his hoodie and sobbed, his every dream being confirmed to be possible right in front of him. This pillar of justice, now in front of Izuku, gave him a reason beyond doubt that he could become a hero. The words of his bullies, the onlookers, the Monster he hid from all those years and his own words too— they slipped away like paper in the wind. That is, until…

 

“I deem you worthy of my power, my quirk is yours to inherit.” 

“...” He looked up at All Might like he had grown a second head…huhhh??? “...huh?” he squeaked.   

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Notes:

FINALLY.
What we've all been waiting for (and what I've hidden in my drafts for nearly a month) the Beginning of Hope! Hey, that's got a nice ring to it... Nah I'm kidding. I'm probably gonna rename the story because one of my friends suggested a name that's so much better than the current one: LetDown! Or Let Down!
Very fitting, no?
Anywho, make sure to keep me goated by commenting bros!

Chapter 11: A recount

Summary:

Izuku's entrance creates tidal waves! A recount of the day before and an Izuku life update.

Notes:

Warnings: scars, not much else

“In… inherit…?” 

“Hahahah!! Oh God! Your face!” All Might laughed, “it's only a suggestion!”

All Might, although skinny and unheroic at the moment, stuck another pose. Finger in the air, then pointing straight at Izuku. “See, young man, what I'm saying is…do you want to accept my power or not?!” Blood spurted from his mouth yet again. 

I can't believe it… has All Might finally gone senile? 

“There are some things you should know. About my abilities, I mean.” He carefully wiped his mouth. “Journalists always say my quirk is super strength or some kind of invulnerability– when they ask in interviews I always evade the question by making a joke. All Might, the symbol of peace, needed to be a natural born hero. But boy, I'm going to tell you the truth.” His hands came up and flared around him. Izuku was beginning to think he was naturally just that dramatic.

 

“My quirk was passed on to me like a sacred torch.”

“You were given a quirk…?”

“Yes, and now … it is your turn.”

“but wait– after all this time, all the debate online– you were given your quirk?” Izuku was lost. “ But quirks can't be given… I– they're a part of our DNA it just can't be feasible as the entire idea behind a person's power is embedded into them and to–!” Izuku slapped a hand over his mouth. 

“Curb your excitements! I have a lot of secrets, but I am no liar. My quirk is one that can transfer quirks, that is the reality you have to face. The name of this power is One for All.” 

Recognition hit Izuku like a bag of bricks. “One for all…” 

“Yes. One person improves the power and then passes it on, and it will only continue to grow as more people gain and pass on this amassed hope… that is the truth of what I have come to inherit.”

“If this power is so important, why would you choose to give it to me?” Izuku fumbled, “what if I can't live up to it?”

“I've been on a long journey while looking for an heir. Seeing you and your heroic prowess, I knew I could give you my powers. Even though you were just a quirkless hero fan, you turned into the hero that kid needed. You were the only true hero there as the rest stood idly by.”

Izuku clenched the part of his hoodie over his heart. 

 

“So, what do you say?” 

 

He really does believe it. If I can be a hero, then how could I think of turning him down? 

 

“I'll do it.” 

“What a quick reply, just as I thought.” All Might smiled, “Ready to start training?”

“Y-yes!”  

 

—-----

 

So. Problem. First of all, he gave Izuku a diet. As soon as he received that paper where his diet was meticulously written he knew that it was impossible. First of all, I don't even have a stove. How am I supposed to do this? Second of all, the beach and the dread of working out. He went to the gym occasionally to use his money’s worth, but he always did it in long sleeves. Why, you ask? Oh nothing, just the plethora of concerning scars. He really wished people would stop looking at him funny. Judging little… But he absolutely, could Not let his idol see his terrible, awful past. It was hard hearing him look down on Izuku the first time, he didn't know what he would do if All Might ever looked at him how other people did. I think I would probably burst into tears. Another issue with the beach was the pure amount of sharp metal. His skin wasn’t thick enough and his reflexes were not sharp enough to avoid that. And then, there was the mom issue…

 

“Young Midoriya, you're sure your parents are okay with this?” All Might tilted his head once he handed over the diet paper. 

Izuku, between bouts of screaming internally, nodded. “Yeah! Uh, it's just me and my mom. She, uhm, she works a lot and won't be around as much but she said I was okay to train.” wanting to make his mom sound more alive, he added; “She's a nurse so, yeah. I'm good.”

“Oh. hm. Okay then! Well, should I have her number just in case? I'll technically be your guardian for this whole thing.”

“No!” he flinched. Yagi’s eyebrows rose and Izuku blushed. “I mean that… She probably won't be as willing to allow this to happen if she saw you. Or got a stranger's number. Sorry, but you look kinda…”

“Ah, yes. I understand. No worries, my boy!” Yagi smiled so brightly. Izuku felt his heart crush. I can't believe i'm lying to All Might. 

 

That was about as far as the conversation went. Toshinori did not press on it and let izuku go on his way.

 

 

----

 

There was an upturn in the underground business. For a while everything went deadly quiet when that kid-- Izuku Midoriya-- blew the whistle on a huge operation. The operation was stupid, rushed, but so complicated at the same time. Aizawa found (heard) that they weren't just transporting Trigger, but also real oranges. It was switched out between each palette with each palette going to a truck. The boxes of Trigger would go in their designated truck with a set destination while the oranges were dropped off somewhere completely different. That way there was an abysmal chance of somebody finding out what they were really transporting. If they dropped a box, there was about a half chance that it would be one filled with oranges. Izuku and Mr. Funamizu just happened to be the lucky winners. But then it got quiet. No new operations, no upset over the kid, nobody searching for him… Aizawa had a suspicion that they already found him

 

The silence was defending, but it was just as deafening when it broke. 

 

Tsukauchi had called him when it did. “They're going crazy! These guys-- we just keep finding more of them! Most of these guys have outstanding warrants for their arrest so they were easy to identify, but they're going around the city and lighting up just about every one of our informants!”

“It's not even time for my patrol yet…” Eraserhead groaned, scrubbing his eyes. 

“Yeah, have fun with that. But-- get this-- That bakugou kid on Midoryia’s case? He said he saw him. Not only that, he's on TV.”

 

“What?"

“Go to any news outlet-- er, well, maybe one of the ones who are more gossip-y-- and he’s on TV for yelling at a hero and saving Bakugou himself! It's insane!”

“This is…” Aizawa hurried to search the web, finding his least favorite news outlet. The video came up immediately.

 

A critical looking woman sat in front of the camera, microphone in hand as smoke swirled around them. “Were here at the scene of a Villain keeping a young boy hostage-- around me are pro heroes who say they cannot interfere.” The scene switched to a hero in poor costume looking over to the camera, “we don't have the right quirks for this… anything we do wont help the kid in any way.” The footage switched to the woman again. “Well. I for one think that is a load of barnacles. Heroes are-- wha--” The footage went from still to rocking, swinging to the scene of the crime. 

 

It was abysmal. Fire roared around the sludge-villain as blond hair poked out from the embrace. Yelling broke out and a boy in a ridiculous All Might hoodie surged forward. Aizawa watched in shocked silence as his yellow bag went flying, hitting the villain square in the eye. Cries shrieked, mixing with the pained yell of the villain. The boy didn't waste time. He was on the villain in seconds, ripping away the melting form faster than Aizawa thought possible. The sludge villain thrashed but couldn't regain his hold, one of the boy’s hands came up to snatch the blond one’s hand out of the prison. Explosions erupted from the palms of the boys hands, they both flew back and the fire roared and scorched the villain. 

 

People like me just don't get that chance, All Might stepped in, quirkless people don't get that chance.  

You did. His eyes were glued on the screen, you are a hero. Aizawa was strictly against people running in and risking their lives in the place of a hero, someone who was trained for the job. He hated seeing them so close to losing everything but at the same time, who would have helped that boy in time? The heroes stood around and watched a kid drown for poor excuses when one frail, quirkless boy achieved more than they could. Aizawa, in short words, was enraged. 

 

“Are you kidding me? They seriously waited around until a child came and did their job for them? Two kids could have died and they did nothing?!” oh, he was so reporting them to the Heroes Association.

“Right?!” Tsukauchi cut in, “I have some choice words to say but i'll spare you the details… go ahead and skip a couple minutes. Or just the complimentary interviews.”

Aizawa did. He scrolled until the video switched from the sickening face of a hero to the singed ground in front of an ambulance. Aisawa immediately recognized the boy. Dark hair, pale face, nerdy hoodie… He was turned just enough so that the camera couldn't see his face, but it could certainly hear just fine. “If you did your damn job then maybe I wouldn’t have had to jump in! If Katsuki died then it. Would. Be. On. YOU.” Aizawa watched, amused, as a hand came up to poke the hero in the chest. “We didn’t have the right quirk—!”

 

“I DON'T EVEN HAVE A QUIRK! If some quirkless child did your job better than you then you need to have your license revoked!” his hands flew into the air. Aizawa could see them shaking. “Think! You could have done something, anything! Instead, you chose to let a kid die because you felt like you didn’t have the right quirk. BOO HOO! People die every day for half the negligence you showed today!” 

“If you were even a third of the hero you claim to be, you would've seen the obvious weakness that sludge villain had. Next time, do your damn job before you get somebody killed.” 

 When Izuku turned around all that anger seemed to melt away. Aizawa could see his face as clear as day now and he watched as the kid ran from the scene.

Aizawa didn't know whether to clap or be appalled. 

 

“Well, eraser,” he sounded so smug, “The kid’s alive.” 

“And all over-- the… news…”

 

Then it clicked. He was alive and all over the news, these criminals were roaming the streets searching for something and they were getting reckless. Like they were scared-- they were frantic-- looking for…

“--Suiu. Those criminals-- they're looking for Midoriya!” Tsukauchi tried to cut in but Eraserhead mowed down his speech, “He said they were after him. He disappeared, so did they and then Midoriya is all over the news so--”

“Holy shit! They're looking for Midoriya!”

“Maybe they thought they finished the job, but if that kid is still alive and well, roaming with all that sensitive information… they don't let rats just get away like that. They must think he knows more than he does.” Aizawa didn't even want to think about why they thought Izuku was well and gone. “We need to find that kid before they do.”

“Before they finally get rid of the problem…” 

“You really need to stop sounding so God damn cheesy.”

“That reminds me! Bakugou told me that Midoriya is a huge fan of heroes– like, mega fan.” Tsukauchi seemed to test his words for a moment before telling Aizawa: “maybe if you get the chance to meet him you can lure him in with your heroic ways?”

“Yeah, sure.” Aizawa promptly hung up on Tsukauchi. So annoying. But he hung up in favor of someone much better.

 

Aizawa looked up when he heard shuffling down the hall, watching with squinted eyes as the tell-tale wisps of blonde hair peeked in the room. Then there were two gorgeous emerald eyes on him. 

“Oh!” The love of his life exclaimed softly. “I thought you would be sleeping. Just wanted to check in on you.” Then there was that soft smile, ever so charming. Aizawa melted into their bed and gave an exhausted look to his husband.

“I did. I was– wanted to sleep all day but…” Aizawa sighed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Detective Tsukauchi called, said the criminal underground has been booming ever since Midoriya –” he paused, then explained, “--the missing kid– went viral on the news.” Tiredly, he twisted and wrapped an arm around Hizashi’s waist. The man had inched closer while Aizawa spoke and sat down on the edge of the bed. Which was perfect grabbing distance. “I haven't checked the news yet. But I just did. It's a mess, Zashi.” 

“Did you ever mention what he looked like?” Hizashi tapped his chin, recalling something but not quite sure.

“Dark green hair, almost black. Pale, freckles, green eyes, All Might hoodie.” He mumbled into his Husband's shirt. 

“No way! That feisty fella? I really liked his spark!” His cheer slipped though. “He's… he's the missing kid?”

“Yeah. We've basically got a zero chance of finding him, especially since the first responders just let him walk off the scene.” Eraserhead cuddled closer, completely done with the topic. Well, not done but tired of it. 

“What's been going on with crime lately?” 

“They're looking for that kid because he busted their whole operation a while back. Completely snitched on them. Not completely sure why they're after him yet.” Hizashi hummed, contemplating Aizawa’s answer. 

“Well, from how I see it, maybe he’s done more than just the whole ‘snitching’ thing.” Aizawa gave him a pointed look. “You know that this kid stays around a bad neighborhood, saves civilians and busts crimes… but what if he's done more than just that? You don't know his whole life, but he's got to have one for the underground to go haywire.”

“Hm. I'll have to see about that.”

“See to it that you do, sleepy.”

 

—----

 

Katsuki couldn't believe his eyes, still didn't believe his eyes. Even after he called to update Tsukauchi he sat utterly dumbfounded on his living room couch. His mom and dad tried talking to him about what happened, fussing over him incessantly but he couldn't… he had been out of it. He was fine and dandy after he was treated but he wished he followed Izuku. He was so close then, hands on Bakugou’s shoulders and for a moment it felt like they were friends. So he smiled. But he wasn't four years old anymore, and Izuku would never be that same kid again. Fundamentally, everything about Izuku had changed. He looked sick, his eyes were tired, and then there was that scar. 

If Bakugou was a lesser man he would have missed it. It streaked in the lower half of his throat with no visible end from the front. But he was so sickly white that the pearly tone of the scar almost blended in perfectly. His mom placed a blanket around his shoulders just then, murmuring that he should get some rest.

 

But he couldn't.

 

He– it was terrifying. He couldn't breathe, could barely hear, and all he could feel was his limbs being engulfed. No one helped him. Why would they? I'm… I've done horrible things. The heroes stood around and he pleaded with his eyes, sobbing so openly. He heard their shitty reasoning for just sitting around and watching a kid die.

 

There's nothing we can do. 

 

He wanted to scream when he heard that. No matter how fucked the situation was: Heroes help people. Period. There was no room for argument. So how come he was the only one to see that? They watched him like some caged animal as he slowly died. This is suffocating, he thought, to have no one in your corner. He knew this is how Izuku felt. Still feels. 

 

There is something you can do, God Damn it!! 

 

Then he locked eyes with Izuku. He was reaching for him, reaching so far that Bakugou thought he was hallucinating that Izuku was there in his final moments. You can do something… his heart pounded with the thought, terrified in the disappointment if Izuku said no. Only you. 

 

Izuku saw it too. They both saw there was something they could do, and he said yes. He was gunning it for Bakugou, throwing his bag over at the villain and digging Bakugou out. This time, Bakugou held Izuku’s hand in his own. He propelled them out of there and collapsed against the wall. All Might came but he didn't even spare the hero a glance. He came to me. It started raining then, drenching Izuku's face, watching as he wiped it away. He saved me, even after all I did… without realizing he did it, he whispered Izuku's name. The boy quickly looked over at him and Bakugou was just so astonished to see him again he couldn't stop from crying. Izuku quickly took a hold of his shoulders. 

“Are you okay?!” 

“...” Katsuki couldn't help but smile. “Only you would ask me that in a situation like this.” only you. Bakugou found this to be more than true. People always expected Bakugou to be okay, he was strong! There was nothing else he could be! But… Izuku knew better. Knew Katsuki on a level no one else could. Where other people ignored him, Izuku was the first to reach out a hand. 

Then there was that little spitball of a hero. Bakugou didn't waste his breath trying to yell at the man. No no, rather, he found himself utterly fascinated by Izuku's frown. Then, that burning rage that sneered across his face. Bakugou felt strangely proud seeing that. 

Then he saw Izuku drag those same heroes and wipe the floor with them. He yelled and prodded them, pushing them until they knew exactly what they were –gum under his shoe. Bakugou has never felt so impressed in his life. Then he watched as Izuku retreated.

 

He regretted that. He hadn't said a word to his mom about what happened but he had a feeling she knew.

 

“...you seen the news yet?” His mom turned around from the kitchen, frowning. 

“Not yet. I didn't want to see what happened until you told me.”

Katsuki grimaced, massaging his temple. “Just– put it on. It doesn't matter anyway.” Katsuki sighed. “... Izuku’s there.”

Her eyes widened. Quickly, she took the remote in hand and switched to the news, playing over the recording from that day. Katsuki didn't bother to look at anything other than Izuku. He had on an All Might hoodie, always a nerd. He thought without malice. His mom didn't seem to be taking it well, though.

“Kat– I'm…!” Her eyes teared up, hands coming up to cover her mouth. It faintly reminded him of Inko. “... I'm so sorry, Kat.” 

That night he didn't escape the clutches of his parents as they hugged him, passing him around wordlessly to comfort him. The whole time he just couldn't get his mind off of Izuku. He should be thinking about the attack– occasionally he did– but that flash of green wouldn't leave him alone. 

 

I was so wrong. He sniffled into his dad's arms, I'm wrong and you better not give up, nerd. 

And yet he begged the memory of Izuku to not abandon him.

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Notes:

I did it... I finally updated on time.
Just you guys wait, I'll be introducing Izuku's mentor (and no, it's not who you think it will be.) the kid's gotta get his moves from somewhere!
Remember to comment, I like it when you guys yell at me (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

Chapter 12: Nosebleeds

Summary:

Izuku experiences nosebleeds and finds a new teacher!

 

“That was great, young Midoriya! Always remember to lift with your legs with objects like this!” All Might cheered, sitting on top of said object. “How about you move onto something smaller for now?” Midoriya huffed from the sand, laying down and scowling at the sky. The boy laughed at All Might's antics.

“I don't think I'm…ready to lift you yet.” He groaned, getting back up. Truthfully, the boy’s will to get back up was admirable. He remembered his own training way back then, I didn't have the will to get back up until Sensei made me back then! He chuckled at the memory. He watched as Midoriya heaved a bedside table into his arms and trotted off, determined expression set in stone. 

I have my worries with this one… Yagi had suggested for Midoriya to get himself a pair of tough gloves after the first day but the boy refused. “I'll be fine! Looks like there's not as much sharp stuff here as I thought… as long as I'm careful, right?” Yagi agreed at the time. Now, though– as soon as anything goes sideways he has a pair of gloves in the backseat of his truck. Yagi saw how he reacted to mentions of his mother. He gave this far-off look, kind of nodded and switched topics or stayed altogether silent. Around the first week mark, Midoriya had started looking sick. Not just from the heat (and Yagi did have his fair share of questions about his full coverage outfit) but like an illness took him completely over. Izuku didn't seem to notice the change– or if he did, he did a good job of hiding it. He would sway sometimes, cough discreetly into his elbow, look a little… green. If you could pardon his humor. 

Then there was that time he rushed over with blood on his nose. Logically, Yagi asked if he was okay. When Midoriya gave him a confused look Yagi pointed out that his nose had blood on it. At this Midoriya sort of sighed and said it happened sometimes because of how dry the air was, then he said something about a humidifier so Yagi let the issue drop. 

It's not like Yagi never suggested that he go back home to rest, it was just that Midoriya refused. He was still making progress and he could see the boy getting stronger every day. Midoriya just refused to give up, that's all. 

Right now they were on their second week and Yagi noticed something different. Suspiciously different. “My boy?” He called “Could I talk to you for a second?” 

 

Izuku jogged over while smiling. “Yeah! What's going on?”

“My boy, if you could take a look around this beach for a moment…” he watched as Izuku turned around, scanned the beach, then did it again. Confused, he looked toward Toshinori. 

“I… don't think I know what you mean. Is there something different?”

“Oh yes. See, it might not look so different to you but it does to me– after all, I'm only here when it's time for your designated training.” Toshinori grinned knowingly at Izuku. The boy paled, if that was even possible for the ghostly boy. 

“Uh! Im– I just–!” Izuku went still, shaking like a leaf with big tears in his eyes. Yagi felt like someone punched the wind out of him by the reaction. Kids don't usually react like that to me. 

 

“Calm down my boy! I just wanted to ask because overworking yourself can give the opposite effect of what we're going for. I also assumed that you had school in the afternoon, was I mistaken?” Yagi kept his tone down, as even as he could while he waited for the pure fear to melt away from Izuku's eyes. Fear of Yagi. What did he think I was going to do? 

“... I'm sorry. I-I have school online and I finish my classes early so… I figured I could do something with my time.” Izuku moved to itch at his arm, fidgeting with the sleeve. 

“That's alright, just don't push yourself too hard. We want to give those muscles time to rebuild in order to get stronger. You'll be on your way to become a hero in due time so… don't rush too much, my boy.” He gave Izuku another smile, this one so much softer. Midoriya nodded.

“Oh uhm– about, hero stuff. Could you teach me how to fight? Or– or at least just some defense stuff? I know we've been working on strength but an integral part of being a hero is being able to overcome a fight or at least evade enemies so I think–” Midoriya slapped a hand over his mouth, “s-sorry…”

 

Yagi blinked, then hummed, then tapped his chin in thought. “I'll be honest, I'm probably not the best teacher for that. My strength lies in my, well, strength. Everything I do as a hero doesn't translate so well like this,” he gestures to his skeletal form, flexing his thin arm for good measure. “And you are a very… how do I say this? You'll probably be more of a short powerhouse.” He wanted to mention Gran Torino but the memory of the man was too frightening for now. Short and scary powerhouse indeed. 

“Everyone is short compared to you All Might…” Midoriya mumbled, pouting about his stoutness. Yagi laughed. 

“Too true!” Seven foot is no easy feat! “But my moves aren't as intricate as any other hero. You'll be hard pressed to find someone who can beat me, but you’ll need something more in-depth.” Yagi sighed. “I'm sorry to say it but… I can't help. Maybe find a dojo or get some lessons.” Yagi smiled apologetically but Midoriya only smiled.

“That's fine! I've got it handled.” 

 

—----

 

Fuck. 

There was blood all over his pillow. Again. He forgot to lay down a towel before he went to bed and now… he deserved one swear word. This had been happening all week– nosebleeds in his sleep, waking up earlier while his heart jack-hammered in his chest. Every day he got up he felt like he fell from the sky but woke up before he could hit the ground. Confused and falling ever still. Then there was the dizziness in the morning. Add a little limb discoordination and he looks like an honest to God zombie. This only affected him in the morning and he got better pretty quickly but it still sucked. 

Issue no. 2 was the fact that those same criminals from before were hunting him down wherever he went. These murderers unfortunately found Izuku on his way to a client and decided that they would strike him down with one of their quirks. It was not fun. 

 

He would go into the gory details but the memory still made him sick. Sleeping that night had been a nightmare too. Almost literally. 

 

Today was not the day to be thinking on that too much though, as he had some plans to attend to. Those criminals kept coming after him even after the initial killing which was so uncool. So, he had a little training in mind. His last killing wasn't an immediate death. The killer had stabbed him right through, watching him slump against a wall before turning around. Izuku couldn't see the man’s face but he could probably guess that he felt guilty– having to look a kid in the eye as you watch them bleed out. It's not an easy job. But Izuku can only go on so many times before finally deciding to learn new ways of escape. These criminals were sneaky, well trained: quiet as if their feet never touched the ground at all. They would trail him from public spaces and into his regular alleys before deciding to dispose of him. He also figured that they had no real communication if they kept leaving his body there. But he knew they checked his heartbeat from the last guy. 

He stood, facing away from Izuku until his body went cold, then he turned back around to check his pulse right as Izuku faded into unconsciousness. They at least made sure he was dead, and there were no additional wounds after he died. So they stopped when Izuku's heartbeat stopped now. I have to be careful. They might be catching on now, so I've got to hide this as best I can. 

 

He found someone who could help him. Through one of his past clients he was connected to a retired underground pro-hero. Izuku knew they were good because he didn't recognize her hero name; Catwalk. Today, he was set to meet her for the first time and review what she knows. 

CatWalk was to meet with Izuku at a small sushi restaurant that wasn't too far from his warehouse. He dressed up in his darkest attire and showed up just a few minutes early.

The restaurant was cozy. It was like a shoebox in size, squished up with other stores beside them. Warm lighting ghosted against Izuku's cheeks and the smell of something baked brushed against his nose. He expected the restaurant to smell sterile or fishy. Much like the other terrible restaurants around the area. The tables were lined up in delicate wooden booths along a wall to the left of the front door. Tapestries and ribbons hung from the ceiling in bold colors, welcoming people in. But there looked to be no business today as every table was empty– well, all except for one. 

A glowering woman tapped the table in front of her, her eyes locked on Izuku. Izuku wasted no time in finding a seat across from her. This seemed to amuse her, a smile creeping across her features. 

True to her hero name, she had feline-like pupils in a deep brown iris. Her hair was short and curly with it resembling something like an asymmetrical bob, colors placed randomly like a calico’s would be. Her lashes were also white and fluttered against her caramel skin while she cooed at Izuku. Sharp teeth, sharp nails, and a curling lip like a cat’s would. Long scars crisscrossed her face and only one cat-like ear emerged from her hair. The other was hidden well. She was possibly everything Izuku imagined the hero Catwalk would be. Her features–although beautiful and lively– also held evidence of her age. Izuku would guess that she was in her 40’s. 

 

His observations were interrupted by a trilling sound by the woman in front of him. “Analyzing me already, Midori-kun? It's so interesting how your eyes look in low light, is that a part of your quirk?” Her hands, covered by a dark turtleneck sweater that fit her perfectly, cradled her chin as she stared. Izuku almost flinched from that nickname of his but toughed it out in favor of a better question. 

 

“How– how do my eyes look?” His hand came up to touch his eye but he quickly aborted the motion. 

“They’re reflecting the light a bit. Not too much, but to my eyes it's … much more noticeable. No need to worry!” She smiled again. “So, you want to learn some hero moves that limelight won't get you. I understand that, I do, but I'm gonna need some reasons here, Kit.” Her eyes hardened and pierced Izuku. Izuku held back the urge to smile excitedly.

“I-im going to try getting into UA. I've been doing some training on the side but I have no idea what to do if–if I have to fight or evade.” Izuku's palms began to sweat. This was all true, with the added bonus of getting away from his killer posse. His eyes flitted away from her intense eye contact for just a moment. 

“UA, huh? Well, I'm all up for training the next generation of heroes but something's telling me that ain't the whole truth, Kit.” Her eyes narrowed. Izuku breathed and leaned back a bit. He had prepared for some extensive questioning like this. 

Pulling back his hood he loosened the strings on his hoodie. It was already pretty big on him but having the hood up made the neckline higher, it also helped hide that tricky little neck scar of his. That clean line, so full of potential. He tugged at the neckline and showed her that scar. He saw her eyes darken. “You know what I do. It's been– it's been dangerous, but it's a way of income for me and my mom. Some people don't like what I do… and things like this happen.” 

Her expression dropped, heartbroken to see and know what's been going on. Even if Izuku was telling it in partial truths. Izuku continued, “I've avoided d-dying so far but I can't get lucky every time. I'd rather avoid stuff like this. I just– I don't have any training to help me evade it.” 

 

She stayed silent for a long, long moment. Seconds ticked by while Izuku watched her face morph into anger. Then sadness, and finally her mouth settled in a hardened line. He felt like an awful manipulator. It doesn't help that I'm always nervous around people. 

“Alright. I'll train you.” She nodded. “At the very least to keep you outta trouble. I've heard about what you do and you've got some shining five-star reviews. I'd hate for talent like that to go to waste.” She clicked her tongue. Izuku bit his cheek to stop himself from cheering, smiling, or sighing in relief. A daunting job, if you ask him. 

 

“Now, I've got some rules before we start training.” She paused. Izuku nodded along so she continued. “First: we don't tell each other our real names. Safety stuff because of how the business is. Second, we train at night. My schedule isn't packed per se, but it's just to keep this outta the way. Third and most importantly, do not bring trouble to my shop. I'm doing this as a favor to a friend as well as a gift to the next generation, so don't screw that up by bringing that nasty gang here.” Her lip scrunched and she hissed in irritation. 

“You know them? The–the gang I mean.” 

Her eyebrows shot upwards. “You don't?” 

Izuku shook his head. The woman tapped a nail on the table, possibly debating if she should tell him anything. Izuku prayed she would. She took one good look at his hopeful eyes and sighed.

“Well, in a basic sense– they're related to a bigger group that keeps their base of operations in the Shizuoka Prefecture. Not much can be done about them right now, they just keep popping up around here. They keep themselves annoyingly hidden. I'm only guessing this is the same group that's after you, from the information I got from a buddy of mine.” She huffed, pinching a bit of her hair between her nails. “They've been kicking up a lot of dust lately, with how often the boys in blue are chasing them around.” 

 

After learning that, Izuku wrapped up the conversation. They exchanged numbers in case of emergency and went their separate ways. Izuku was already feeling tired from the morning training, work, and subsequent schooling he did online. He had also taken to doing extra training on the side when All Might wasn't looking. 

I guess I'll have to give up that extra training now. The only reason he had the extra training was because of how quickly he recovered from being sore. He agreed with All Might that it wasn't healthy but… what about Izuku screams “healthy” at all? 

Not that he would let anyone find out what he really is.

 

~~~~~~

Notes:

Special little early chapter for my new commenter (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡
Don't you see? Comments motivate me!

Chapter 13: Train In Vain!

Summary:

CatWalk time!

Notes:

Short n' sweet today. Warnings: some little themes about death and SH.

Every week, twice a week, CatWalk would sit down inside the restaurant and order a drink. Usually the two of them would head straight for a small studio decked out in padded ground– a personal ground for CatWalk. All that hero money went to a good cause, she said, my cause. Izuku always insisted that he stay outside while CatWalk did… whatever she did in the restaurant. He wasn't interested in prying into her business, especially after having her throw him around a few times. But today it was raining. Izuku really didn't want to get caught in the rain. CatWalk invited him to sit with her and here he was. Bored and tired from the day before. Maybe that's why I wasn't afraid to ask questions. 

“Uhm, do you work here?” 

“Me?” CatWalk replied, one ear twitching. “No, no. I don't work here at all. I just like to sit and mooch off of my good friend's kindness.” She grinned. Then, patting her fingers against the table like a drumroll, she introduced her friend's presence. A small woman walked from the kitchen to their table from the time it took CatWalk to drumroll– while holding a soda in her hand. The woman blinked when CatWalk made a sweeping presentation of her, whispering a “Tada!” Upon her presence. 

“Oya! My good friend since middle school! This restaurant is passed down every generation, from every mastered cooking skill comes the perfect amalgamation of cuisine: Oyachan!” A proud smirk flitted onto Catwalks lips as Oya stood, looking even more confused. 

The woman had dark hair and green, orb shaped eyes. Her body was covered in thin white stripes of bandaging, fangs peaking out where her mouth would be. She wore simple clothes with a black apron around her waist, her hair in a bun held up by sticks, and big round glasses rested on her face. She looked squishy almost. 

Oya sighed. “What are you doing…?” 

“Introducing you, obviously. Now! This is The Analyst, but I just call him Midori.” Izuku twitched at the name. No matter how many times she said it he still couldn't get over the resemblance. Izuku waved at Oya. 

“Ah, yes, hello there.” Oya adjusted her glasses. “You must be the one CatWalk bragged about training.” Her smile was small, teasing. CatWalk scowled for a moment. 

“Well!” She sniffled. “Time for us to head out. See you tomorrow, Oyachan.” CatWalk got up from her seat. Izuku got up from his too but paused when he noticed CatWalk made no move to go out. Instead, she leaned down to about Oya’s height. Oya giggled. 

And planted a kiss on Catwalk’s cheek. 

Izuku squeaked, then blushed, then turned around and covered his eyes. “I-Im sorry! I'll wait for you outside!” He went to scramble out the door. 

“Ah. Oh well.” CatWalk sighed. Izuku was already outside and under the awning before he could hear anything more. I can't believe it! I totally messed up! I encroached on their private time! His face heated up minutely in embarrassment. The bell above the door jingled and Izuku turned to look at CatWalk. Her face showed no anger or embarrassment, much unlike what Izuku expected. 

“What's got you in such a twist, Kit?” She said, unfurling her umbrella. 

“W-well! I didn't mean to– to invade your p-privacy like that and I understand if– if you might not want to train anymore b-because–!” Izuku's heart sank at the worst possibility. 

“Woah there! Calm down! You're such an over-thinker… it's just some affection between friends, Kit.” Her smile twitched unnaturally, souring her expression. “Nothin’ special.” She mumbled. 

But even as her mood dropped she took Izuku's shoulder and huddled him under her umbrella. Izuku nodded in response while his mind lingered on her response. For something that supposedly “not special” she sure acts like it's more. They began their trek to Catwalk's studio, all the while Catwalk's head hung low. Why is she so disappointed? Izuku wanted to dwell on the thought some more– maybe even ask some questions– but that would be overstepping his bounds. When they arrived, CatWalk wasted no time in getting started. First, Izuku would wrap his hands (with Catwalk's guidance) and begin some stretches. CatWalk made sure to stress the importance of flexibility, especially in a fight. I'm called CatWalk for a reason! Flexibility is key, and just because I have special bones doesn't excuse you from becoming just as bendy as me! She would usually finish these statements with some ridiculous show of her abilities– like folding herself in half. Izuku made some progress in that area! Now it hurts a little less when he touches his toes! Not that he’ll say that to CatWalk… 

Moving on from these exercises, CatWalk let's him make the first move when they spar. Izuku swings his leg to her left flank only for her to slide to the side, missing his kick by a hair. Izuku swings for her with his right hand. CatWalk catches his fist, flinching away from his right fist just in time. Each kick he risked was blocked or dampened, and when he got reckless she would take him by his leg and flip him onto the mat.

“You're too slow.” She reminded him. “Stop thinking so much.” Her hand brings him back up by the collar of his shirt. Izuku's back is throbbing in pain but he grits his teeth and bares it.

Once he's up again, CatWalk doesn't say a word. Her hand struck his shoulder and clawed. He stepped back, rushing to her side and dropping down, sweeping his leg beneath her. She hopped up, allowing Izuku room to crack a kick into her ribs. She stumbled, breath fluttering. He struck her again, her own hand coming up to snatch his forearm. She tries to twist him around but he slips below her and slides between her feet. Hopping back up on the other side, he uses his arms to block a kick from CatWalk. 

For an amount of time Izuku is proud of, he holds out. But it doesn't stop him from being put on his back once more. Chuffing, he scrambles up. 

“That was a good one, you didn't stop to think like you did last time. While it's good to strategize, you gotta do that before the fight. Now,” she twists from her spot near her bag, bandaids in hand. “How's your shoulder?” 

Izuku blinked. “My… shoulder?” He looks down at his shoulder, only to see nothing. 

“Other shoulder.”

His head flipped. “Oh.” His long sleeve held some small holes in it, and when he ran his hand over it he could feel raised bumps. He knew she kept her claws drawn back but that only helped so much. He heard CatWalk shuffle closer. 

“I got… Hello Kitty and All Might.”

“A-ah, I got the All Might ones yesterday so, Hello Kitty?” She nodded. Handing him four bandaids, she turned around again. 

“I know how you like your privacy, kit. Go ahead and patch yourself up before we move on.” 

I've really messed up, haven't I? He pulled his shirt away from his shoulder, smoothing a bandaid over the cold wound. I can't believe I snapped at her like that. I've already apologized but… it wouldn't hurt to do it again? He sighed. Something familiar squirmed in his chest, that dreaded feeling of abandonment. She wouldn't do that. Stop thinking about it! He shook his head, blowing some longer hairs away from his eyes. It's been a while since I've cut my hair. Since she cut my hair. 

 

He really wished he hadn't freaked out the first time she tried patching him up. He couldn't help it– this soul-gripping fear overtook him before he could talk himself down. She scratched his arm, so by that logic it would only be right for her to patch him up. But when she started rolling up his sleeve… he froze. Without a thought he ripped his arm away, cradling it close while his face contorted into this ugly, hurt expression. “D-dont touch me.” He remembered whispering, but only remembered after the fact. Everything felt like it was underwater in that moment. Muffled concern and slow movements from CatWalk, a hand on his shoulder– then he was back. 

 

His eyes followed the curve of his arm– where those twisting scars wove together like ivy– where that fear took him by the collar. He was by no means a clean slate before he died, but now it was so much worse without a morgue to take him. Rubbing his temple he dispelled the thoughts. You're alive, you're alive… there is no rot, you're fine. 

 

“Shall we continue our stealth training?” CatWalk grinned, hand swooping to introduce the floor. The hardwood floor this time. “We've been making some great progress! The technique is simple but deceptively hard, so I'm glad to see that you've picked it up so well. Now, like I've said before, the rustling of your clothes, the tap of your shoes, and the wind of your breath can all get you caught.” 

She dropped lower, hunching closer to herself, stepping swiftly across the floor. All of this was done soundlessly. Impressed, Izuku clapped with two of his fingers. She would see the intention well enough. Popping back up, she turned to him once again. “Now, this is just one way you can be stealthy. But if you want to blend in for an amount of time…” she hummed, tapping a finger against her chin in thought. “Let's say you're around other people. Your target is distracted– for just a moment– and you need to move as quickly as you can to take advantage of this lapse in attention. This is usually something I used to get me out of a bind but others have turned this into their main way of stealth.” She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. 

“I'm naturally more quiet because I am attuned to sound.” Her ear twitched with purpose. “I also don't recommend this unless you're really good at holding your breath. Now! Take in a deep breath, still yourself, and try your best to blend in… not that there's much to blend into here.” 

Izuku tried it, calming himself as best as he could. “Good. Now I want you to stop breathing for a bit– hold it in. Now, try your very best to be as calm as possible, as quiet as possible– and walk into any space around me.”

He nodded. Doing as she told him, he stilled his breath and walked forward. 

“You're way too loud.” Izuku flinched. “Don't walk forward with a purpose like that. I can hear the power-posture you've got going on.” it was true. He was trying to make himself look… heroic… ah, oh well. He slumped a little more, made himself tense less. Loose noodle, loose noodle. He joked to himself. 

He stepped to her right. Her ear turned towards him. “You're getting better. You should try and practice this some more, but you're already pretty quiet. Must be your low blood pressure. Those types tend to be quieter.” She rambled. 

“H-how did you know?” 

“Your hands are ice cold, kit.” 

“Oh.” He hadn't thought about that. 

“What're you waiting for ? Keep going! We've got another hour of this!” 

Izuku bit back a groan.

 

—----

 

“Yo, Kit.” CatWalk cornered him at the end of training while Izuku worked to gather his things. “Just so you know… you're allowed to swing by Oya’s restaurant. You don't have to sit outside every time.” Izuku looked up, seeing a little hurt in her eyes. Izuku didn't know what he did to cause that.

“But im– wouldn't that be in-- interrupting your time? Alone time?” He's always been told to stay away from others, to maintain their space. Like he was something diseased that needed quarantine. 

“I get alone time every day. I'm not gonna bar you from coming into the restaurant, your company isn't that bad.” She laughed, then sobered quickly. “Seriously. Don't hold yourself back on my account.” 

Izuku nodded. But are you sure? I'm… I'm known to be a little annoying. He so desperately wanted to say that, luckily he thought better of it. 

 

She’ll find out soon enough, nothing really lasts. 

 

But he still prayed that it would– just this once. Please. He was so tired of letting things go. 

 

 

~~~~

 

Good News! There's official art! Now you get to see Izuku in 20hd! 

 

Notes:

This chapter is a little short just because I'm trying to establish that yes, they do spend a good amount of time near each other. Also-- I've just finished the UA entrance exam chapter arc! But only Izuku's POV rn. I'm working on the other characters pov and some thoughts from our favorite White Stoat at the moment.

Seriously. That chapter 15 is a BEAST. I'm scared to see the word count.
Anyway, please comment if you want to add anything or have any questions-- or if I included hints about an arc and forgot about them (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Chapter 14: Routine Failure

Summary:

His hair-- that sunflower yellow-- Present Mic the one and only! Aizawa finds Izuku, CatWalk things, and a new past-time

Notes:

Warnings: not much really. Suicidal tendencies mentioned and bad memories

Months went by, and now the entrance exam isn't far. Izuku wanted to say that those months were eventful but… he's already reached his lie threshold. I could be a professional liar by now. He tells All Might that he's eating well, he tells CatWalk that his mom is too busy providing for them, he tells himself that he loves waking up every morning. 

He doesn't know when he's safe to stop lying. He's just so tired. He wants to go home– that's one of the things that came to his attention. Wooden floors, warm kitchens, cluttered shelves : Bloodied concrete. He remembers waking up from a pleasant memory of his home only to see the cold, moonlit floor of the warehouse. He doesn't even feel sad about it anymore, just… empty. His eyes are dry. There are no tears, or smiles, or little sparking emotions that light up his world. He used to see that sunflower yellow in his mind when he smiled or cried, but now it's all one muddy color. He makes it a point to have a goal each day to stop that subtle itching under his skin. Do your laundry tonight, he lists, make sure to eat something before you go to bed. Sometimes it feels like it's his mom saying those things to him, maybe that's why he listens. 

Then, one night, All Might cancels a training session. It came as a simple text to Izuku's phone, reading: “apologies, young Midoriya! I'll have to cancel today's training session due to hero work… my Detective friend is dragging me into a mission that day so I'll be indisposed! Use that day as a rest day, won't you?” Izuku could only blink down at his screen. They hadn't had a single day off yet (mostly due to Izuku's insistence) but he supposed that it was out of his control… “Okay! Good luck on your mission!” He typed back. It was a blip in his day, really. He had forgotten about it as he went about his nighttime routine.

 

It was more than just a blip the next morning. Bleary from sleep, Izuku woke up and cracked his joints. He didn't move much during his sleep, the chorus of aching muscles can attest to that. He yawned, smacked his lips, and wiped his bloody nose. A normal morning. He went about his business in taking the towel off of his pillow and getting dressed for training, only to pause when he checked his phone. Right, I have no training today. Izuku hummed, a bit disgruntled at the news. Still in his pajamas, he took a sweeping glance at the warehouse. 

 

“...” 

 

Well. What do I do now? 

His gaze landed on an analysis notebook that slid out of his backpack –which had probably been tipped over sometimes in the night– next to his closed laptop. A little unsure of what to do, he picked up the notebook. Hero analysis for the Future, written cleanly in his best handwriting, Vol. 11. It was an older one. He remembers pouring over Vol. 11 after meeting Eraserhead for the first time instead of just finding glances in phone recordings. For the fun of it he flipped through the pages, cringing at some of his older work. 

This one has Gang Orca… he paused at a page named “UA STAFF.” Drawn in the margins of the page was Present Mic. A newer rendition of his costume, information on what he teaches, a little info on his show. That was paired with an image of UA’s Principal. But he noticed that he had colored Present Mic’s hair sunflower yellow. 

His hand rested on the page for a long while. Eyes soaking in that familiar color. 

It's been so long since I've listened to his radio show. Maybe I should… check in? 

 

That's how Izuku found himself herded around his laptop, listening intently to Present Mic’s morning show. 

“Goooood Morning Listeners! I hope everybody's up and at em’-- getting that good sunshine or enjoying their morning brew, however you do.” Present Mic spoke in that cheery, comedic tone of his; completely unperturbed by the early hour. Izuku was doing neither of those things.

He smiled anyway.

“Call me strange but I like my coffee black– only a hint of sugar. Of course, you all know I'm more of a tea guy!” he chortled a little. “In other news, thanks for stopping in and going about your mornings the right way– with my special music selection! Today I've got a rockin’ treat for all you Listeners out there: old school Rock! Soft enough for your early ears but hype enough to get you started!” A sound effect played of a record scratch– or maybe he's making that noise himself?-- and an energetic beat sounded. The start of the song faded in as Present Mic delivered some final words. “Don't forget! We've got a Guess That Music event going on tomorrow morning! That's right, tune in tomorrow morning and you have the chance to Guess my tracks! Peace!” 

Izuku noticed he said “Guess That Music” the same way “guess that pokemon” is said. He giggled at that. 

Settling in, Izuku grabbed one of his newer analysis notebooks. He scribbled in the pages, tapping his foot to the soft beat that played from his computer, faintly remembering that he did the same when he was younger. It was pleasant. It made him forget– just for a moment– that he was sitting in a darkened warehouse. His socked foot tapping against a washed away spot of blood, that same yellow color poking out of his suitcase in the form of his mom's cardigan. But right now he wasn't Izuku Midoriya, or even Deku. He was just Izuku, humming to a beat he didn't know in his favorite pajamas. 

Eventually the boy became lost in thought, as per his usual. Due to Present Mic's job at UA, he usually does a short spiel every morning, and on the weekends he does longer interviews. He’s high energy and cheery, that beaming smile shining through his voice every time he speaks. That is also when Izuku realized he favored smiley blondes. A lot. 

The tracks played over Present Mic's show were picked out by him personally and played over the duration of it, ending with a pre-recorded message before switching over to another host. The weekend shows were longer and more talkative, completely making up for the shortened weekday shows. But Izuku wondered how he juggled three jobs. He must go straight to UA after his morning show, then after that he goes home. No set patrol time or route as he’s on a basis of emergency call… then he must do some hero work over the weekend too? Being a teacher at UA usually keeps you from being able to patrol and put you on a basis of being called in. Unless you patrol at night then… Izuku continued to mutter, writing down whatever he can think of. 

 

—--

7:32 PM

Izuku checked his phone for the time after his training with CatWalk. She patted a gentle hand on his back as her studio doors closed behind them. 

“You've got entrance exams coming up soon! How are you feeling? Proficient, I hope.” She laughed. 

Izuku gave a small smile back. “Did you go to UA too?” 

“Nah, went to a different school. UA is cool n’ all but it ain't the only one out there. All the other schools are just farther out so most people don't consider them.” 

“Oh,” he hummed, “so… if it was far out, then why are you so close to here? N-not that I'm not glad you aren't– aren't far away!” His hands swung around nervously. 

CatWalk grinned, “calm down, Kit. I don't mind telling you a bit of my life's story. Cmon, let's walk back to Oya’s.” 

The two of them fell into step side by side, listening to the whistle of the wind while the sun casted a purple glow in its setting. Izuku thought it looked like the perfect night. 

“I moved far away for high school. The nearest school that took me was still a length away from my actual home, so my family thought it best to just move a little closer. I made sure to visit Oyachan every weekend, though. We used to make a game out of who could arrive faster to her parent’s restaurant–" she chuckled, “-- even though she lived above it and I had to get there by train! We had a blast, as any teenager does.” A hefty sigh came from CatWalk. “And then my hero work began.”

Her tone switched up so quickly, Izuku could hear the low burn of distaste. Her smile, once filled with the glee of a young girl's folly, vanished into a stony stare. 

“I chose to patrol around here. The crime rates were high at the time and I wanted to– to protect Oya from that type of thing. I didn't even realize what I was getting into.” Another pause, cold and resonating. Izuku was hanging off of her every word. “I… I brought trouble to her restaurant. I don't want to get into the details but I made a complete mess of things– I was young, naive. And it 'costed Oya someone very important. She says it's not my fault but, y'know. Anyways– I move back. Farther away than ever before and I stop visiting. We texted occasionally but I was just not experienced enough to help her fully. I threw myself into my hero work, wrecking myself and stretching myself too thin just so I could finally be strong enough to protect Oya and everybody else. It was stupid.” 

 

“It was what cost me my career.” Izuku's eyes lingered on her impaired ear, hidden behind her wavy hair. “I ended up moving back here by Oya’s insistence. Not that I had a choice– she would've dragged me back kicking and screaming anyway!” A laugh broke through the silence. When CatWalk looked back down at Izuku she was met with teary eyes, lip wobbling in sympathy. CatWalk flinched back in surprise.

 

“Ah! Oh– sorry Kit! Didn't mean to make it so depressing up in here!” She scratched her neck lightly. “I also didn't mean to dump all that on you like that.” 

Scrubbing his eyes, Izuku responded, “it's fine! I wanted to know… thanks for telling me.” He sniffled, “I'm– I'm naturally this emotional.” 

“Really? I hadn't noticed.” She grinned. Izuku huffed and crossed his arms. “You now know my tragic backstory– congratulations! Now, I've got a question for you.” Izuku watched her expression for a second, noting how her smile was kept perfectly even, so he nodded.

“You told me a bunch about you, so– so it'd only be fair for you to have a question for me.” He let his hands wander up, pinching his long curls and twisting them where they flowed over his neck. 

“Alright,” she breathed easily, “What's a smart kid like you doing in a place like this?” 

 

“...” Izuku's mouth opened, then shut. He looked at her through his hair and frowned. He wanted to deny the claim that he was smart first, but he was more confused about the entire question. “What… what do you mean?” 

“I mean that– you live with your mom. You told me she works her ass off every day to support you as a nurse. You also told me that you do your own work to help her out.” She nods herself, finding all these statements to be self-evident. “Now, what I don't understand is why. Why in the world would such a dedicated mother allow her and her son to live in a place as bad as that?” Her thumb jerked behind her, pointing past the market part and into the worst area. Izuku didn't have to follow her pointing to know what she meant. 

But at the same time, why did she care? 

“...it's not like we can control it.” He mumbled, looking down at his feet. 

“I'm not saying that you can control it, or even your mother if circumstances allow. I'm asking you for your story, kit.” There was this twitch in her voice. This strange upturn in pitch that made Izuku sweat, knowing that exact tone from his own mother. She's worried. Why is she worried? 

I can't stay here, his head snapped up, I need to go– I can't–! He didn't want to cry again, not over his own pathetic life. He so desperately wanted people to stop caring– to stop digging for answers in Izuku's inconsistencies. Aren't they tired of getting their hands dirty? His jaw clenched.

“I can't.” Izuku choked.

“What? Woah Kit, hold on, you look sick–”

“I can't.” His voice quivered, practically seething through his teeth. He couldn't see anything clearly anymore. I have to go. He smoothed his expression over. Turning to look at CatWalk, he smiled. As sweetly as he could.

“It looks like something came up. I'll have to meet you next time. Thanks again!” Then he sprinted away. 

It all happened too fast for CatWalk to follow, leaving her staring at the dust Izuku kicked up. 

 

Izuku took to the roof of a nearby building, scanning the dark ground below him. A man from the bar, a girl walking to her apartment, a stray cat. He logged every passerby for a few minutes before deeming that the way back was safe. Moving from his position on the top of the building, he hopped down onto a rickety fire escape. I escaped this time, but how can I stop her again? His hand slid over a spot of rust, lost in thought. 

“What are you doing out here so late?” 

Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin– he helped, clamping a hand over his mouth and whipping his head around to the rooftop. The first thing his eyes landed on were bright yellow goggles. No. 

“... Midoriya?” 

NO. 

He practically tripped over every step while running, flying down each flight of stairs. Eraserhead yelled after him, swinging against the fire escape with bruising force. Izuku leaped down the last few steps and flung himself out of the alley. 

“Kid! Wait!” Eraserhead was fast– faster than Izuku. Of course he is! He's a seasoned pro! That didn't stop Izuku from cutting corners. His feet pounded against the concrete, each breath more panicked from the last. He knows my name– how does he know my name?! A strip of gray fabric whipped past Izuku's foot. Oh– his bare palms skidded across the ground, scraping his knees along with it. He hissed and shouted, tears springing into his eyes. 

“Kid, look–” Izuku thrashed against the scarf around his foot, “-- I'm not out to get you. I just want to talk.” 

Talk? Just talk? My luck must be terrible today! He screamed internally. Externally, he bared his teeth at the man. He was pissed, and sad, and tired… he was a lot of things, especially tonight. Eraserhead suddenly knowing his name and chasing after him was just the icing on top. 

“Then t-talk.” Izuku bit out. The scarf didn't move from around his foot but he inspected his palms as a distraction. They were scraped pretty good but didn't look too bad. 

“... Okay. First of all, I'm sorry I chased you like this. There's a lot to be said and I wasn't sure if I'd have the opportunity to do so.” Izuku nodded. “Secondly, you have to promise me not to run off until after I've said my piece, alright?” Izuku raised an eyebrow. 

“...okay.” 

Eraserhead sighed. “Good.” He lowered himself next to Izuku, crouching easily beside the teen. “...are your palms okay?” His tone was completely bland. 

Izuku showed his hands to the man, absently picking a piece of gravel out of the wound. Eraserhead grimaced for a second but quickly went back to looking neutral. “And your knee?” 

Izuku huffed. He was wearing black sweatpants so it wasn't like anyone could see the blood… so he swiped two fingers over his banged-up knee, showing the small amount of blood to Eraserhead. “Just– just a scrape.” 

“Alright.” The man nodded. “If you're okay with sitting there for a bit, I'll fill you in on the situation.”

Izuku shifted.

“I'll just say it how it is, kid: there's a missing person report on you.” 

“WHAT.” 

“Calm down. The police are half-sure that you just moved and didn't notify anybody, and seeing you here is confirming that. Almost.” His lips twitched as if he wanted to frown.

“Almost …?”

“You are aware that I found you on a rooftop, right?” 

“...” Izuku paused. Late at night, teen on rooftop, potentially missing. “...oh.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, “not a good look, kid.” 

“But I– we really did move. I didn't tell anybody because, uhm, I didn't have anybody to tell? And the r-rooftop thing,” his mind stuttered over the picture of Aldera’s rooftop. “I was heading back home and just wanted to people-watch for a bit. The area isn't the best and I didn't want anyone following me home.” His eyes dropped to his lap, hands fidgeting. He could feel the hero's gaze boring into him, inspecting every angle of his lie. 

Eventually he deemed it worthy. “Alright. I won't press you anymore. Not here at least.” The hero got up, extending a hand to Izuku. Izuku got up on his own, completely ignoring the hand. 

“If you want this whole misunderstanding cleared up we can go to the station and give a statement now. The detective assigned to your case isn't available tonight so it'll just be a short interview with an officer.” 

“... And I have to do this? Just because I moved?” 

“Yes. There's also the fact that you didn't show up for your final year.”

“I do online school now.” Izuku shrugged. 

“Hm.” Eraserhead turned on his heel. “Follow me, I'll take you there.” 

While they walked Izuku watched Eraserhead’s back, saw how he walked with slouched shoulders and hands in his pockets. With a flick of his hand his yellow goggles settled atop his head. His hero outfit was baggy and casual. Does he use his image to his advantage? Izuku blinked, he must look like a homeless person on purpose. He smiled a little to himself. That's some really smart camouflage. 

“I saw you on the news, you know.” Izuku tried his best not to flinch. “You were impressive. Standing up to a hero and all that.” 

“Oh. That. Uhm, I wasn't having the best day.” 

Eraserhead's shoulders shook like he was laughing for a moment. “A bad day, huh?”

Another moment passed with Izuku feeling too much like he was the one in trouble to speak.

“Have you been alright since you left the station? Not gotten into any trouble?” 

Izuku knew what he was asking about. “Only–only sometimes. It's manageable. I can usually get away fast enough.” 

“... Tsukauchi was worried, you know. We were worried. After that interview it was found that you moved out of your home and went missing– your friend filed the report when both you and your mom stopped coming around town.”

“Friend? But–” he paused. If he told Pro Hero Eraserhead right now that he had no friends he would only come off as a loser. Oh well. “--uhm, nevermind. Actually my mom got a new job and we moved away. I'm sure this is a huge misunderstanding, that F-friend you mentioned… we actually had a bit of a falling out so we don't talk anymore. I got a different phone number recently too so, yeah.” It felt like his ears were on fire. 

“Hm. Well don't go getting killed. Stay out of trouble, and don't worry your mother.” Izuku wanted to laugh. He sounded so much like a grandpa, lecturing Izuku about his habits. Izuku could only muster a sound of agreement in return. 

 

The station, as it seems, was not too far out from Oya’s restaurant. Izuku filed that information away just in case. 

The officer who was filling in for the detective greeted Izuku rather flippantly, not even mustering a smile for a supposedly missing child. Eraserhead scowled when she did but didn't say anything about it. Good old quirkless treatment. The officer led him to a secure room, seating him across from her while she sighed. 

The questions began with little fanfare. There was barely any thought put into them and certainly no digging done into his vague answers, she only did the bare minimum of what was required. He had a gut feeling that he would be out of that station with no other questions asked or further proof that he moved– or even if his mother was alive and with him. The officer glared at him as if she didn't care. As if she would've rather seen his obituary in front of her than him. He itched to tell her that he tried his best to fulfill that wish. 

But it made him wonder– why haven't they mentioned her death? They spoke about his mother like she was alive and well, asking simple questions about what she does for a living without bothering with her name. It was almost as if they didn't know who she was at all. Did they seriously not even bother to look up my mother? Just because I'm quirkless? He didn't care about what his status was, he only cared about the disrespect to his mother by not even bothering with basic research. Or maybe it went deeper than that. Possibilities filled Izuku’s head– her death was reported somewhere, she was buried and given a stone, but I never saw foster services at all. 

Eraserhead was gone when he left that stuffy room. He didn't expect him to stay, anyway. His walk back to the warehouse was filled with this heavy static, a sort of chill that sweeps through an empty room and a silence that made his ears ring. His footsteps were silent– courtesy of his training– which only added to that all-encompassing silence. It wrapped around him while his thoughts raced. 

Have I been abandoned? We're my government files omitted from an update because shes– a rusted door met him. Sliding his hand over it, he could only think about how cold he was. It swung open to an even colder room. Empty but filled just enough to take care of him, a fitting coffin. 

His eyes slid over the floor.

I must have been deliberately separated from my mom. And wasn't that a thought? To be completely and utterly shunned just because of a quirk status he couldn't control? 

He hoped that wouldn't hurt his schooling. I know UA changed their quirk policy, but on paper it says I'm still quirkless. 

Standing in the center of that room, the boy cursed softly. “...I'll have to talk to All Might.” 

 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

 

Notes:

Sigh. You know how I said "chapter 15" was the entrance exam? Yeah, no, I just completely misnumbered the chapter. It's actually chapter 16. That said: I am releasing two chapters today and chapter 16 tomorrow-- just to get it out there. College has kept me on my feet so im dead tired!!

Chapter 15: "I insisted"

Summary:

Talks with All Might and a harsh reality check for Katsuki Bakugou!

Notes:

Warnings: suicide mentions, bullying mentions

He had a lot to tell his mentor, that much was true. He had to tell him at least some truth about his quirk– he really wanted to tell him everything. To open his mouth and let every truth tumble from his lips and gain some relief. But that key had been thrown away long ago. If All Might was going to be his mentor then he had to know something so they could get his quirk status worked out together. 

Meeting All Might on that beach felt like jail cell bars closing in around him. He couldn't bring himself to meet All Might’s eyes. He planned out a story before this to make everything at least a little bit believable, and definitely not like he had been deliberately lying to All Might the whole time– taking his trust beneath his foot and squashing it. 

“My boy! It seems we're both here a little bit early!” His smile was so bright. The sun reflected off of his thin form, creating a halo behind that man. To Izuku, he looked like the epitome of kindness. I'm sorry. 

“All Might…we– we need to talk.” I'm so sorry. 

“Of course, we can do that. Is everything all right, my boy?” 

“Yeah– uhm… I didn't know how to say this to you so I'll just come out and– and say it.” You don't deserve a terrible successor like me. “I manifested a quirk. R-recently. Er, sort of.” 

All Might stood there for a moment, stunned by what Izuku told him. 

“Im–im sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you! I just– I just didn't know what to say! It was after the–the sludge villain, I don't know exactly when…” Izuku watched his tears fall. He felt so incredibly stupid, like a traitor. “I'm so sorry, All Might… I didn't mean to–!” He cut himself off, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. His eyelids burned when the fabric scraped across it.

“It's alright, you can calm down– I'm not mad. I'm just a little surprised.” A hand landed on Izuku's shoulder, comforting the boy. “Could you tell me what your quirk is? It's a very exciting prospect, indeed, but I'd like to know the specifics if I could.” His smile was as grand as ever. Izuku knew he didn't deserve this man, and that man didn't deserve the punishment of Izuku Midoriya. 

“I heal when I sleep. I don't know many specifics and I– I didn't notice until later on but I can heal my wounds in my sleep.” He made sure his head was ducked, “I'm not sure to what extent either. Just small cuts and bruises so far.” 

“Oh wow! A self healing quirk! That's quite the rarity you have there, my boy! You do know how rare healing quirks are, don't you?” All Might sounded so excited– it only made Izuku feel worse. “Regeneration quirks are some of the rarest– while this is a great discovery, you mustn't go around getting your limbs chopped off. I'd rather your quirk just heal bruises for now.” All Might laughed. He didn't even know the half of it. 

Izuku nodded. After a breath he continued, “But im– I'm telling you this because I'd rather have it registered before the exam at UA. I know their policy on quirk–quirkless applicants has changed but I don't want my chances to be ruined before then.” 

“Ah, I see. Well, there's no need to worry about that. I've got it covered!” 

“You–you do…?” 

“Yes, you see, I'm going to give you my quirk right when you're ready. Which should be soon by my calculations, and I'll register your quirk when it does happen!”

“What uhm– what are you going to register it as?” 

“Well, given the nature of One for All, I was going to register the quirk as ‘Superpower’. Very vague, yes I know, but that is on purpose!” All Might struck a pose unconsciously, hands on his hips, “When it manifests and you've got a better understanding of it you can change the name! It's only vague right now because I'm not sure how it'll manifest with you, and you might want to keep the specifics to yourself. It's a blanket term.”

“Oh! I see! Okay!” He wanted to pretend that he wasn't shaking violently, even if for just one minute. Mostly because he was utterly shocked that All Might believed him. Yet here he was, squandering that trust. 

“...Would you like to have your quirk registered? While I know you're up to having One for All, this is still a part of you. I wouldn't want to take that privilege away.” 

Izuku actually considered it for a moment. But then remembering his crimes, he smiled and said; “no, I'm alright with just ‘Superpower'.” 

A traitorous thought squirmed in his mind while he went about his exercise on the beach moments later. 

Be realistic… yeah, he could do that. 

 

—---

 

In those months leading up to the exam, Izuku studied his hardest. He researched techniques, sciences, and testing tips. He even looked into previous entrance exams and found that they started featuring robots since Nedzu’s election as principal. Then, he started researching basic wiring components. He learned that machines were a very delicate balance, technology was as by-the-book as it could be– there were advanced levels to it, of course, but it was all so lined up. More importantly– he learned how to blow an electrical fuse. 

Theoretically, he could blow a fuse by attaching a power current of a higher level to a fuse of a lower level. Or in better terms– he could twist two wires together and see how the components spark. But he doubted something like that would be needed when slicing every wire in sight was a much quicker option. Severing the links would work just as well as turning it off.

Knowing that, he asked All Might if he had to submit a support item form for electrical gloves. All Might said that it would be fine since they were a clothing item and not a weapon or tool. It took him a day or two to even work up the courage to ask, though. 

The day before the exam he cleared the beach. 

He remembered yelling and whooping, All Might grinning alongside him, celebrating his accomplishment. When All Might told him to swallow that hair… he blanched. 

 

“You what now?” 

“Take this! Its how the quirk is transferred! Trust me, I wish there was a better way to do this.” His mentor winced. 

Izuku sighed. Well. Down the hatch. 

 

—-------

 

“You found him?! You found him and told me nothing?!” Katsuki roared at the officer with his teary-eyed father and mother clinging to him. 

 

“It wasn't in my control at the time–!” 

“Bullshit! Then where is he!” 

“I don't know!” The Detective broke, hands trembling against the file. “If I knew, I would have conducted another look at his case.” His shoulders fell from their tense position. “The officer there at the time only asked the bare minimum to get him in and out of the station. It was a careless job on their part, as they had nothing riding on the investigation other than a bet whether Midoriya… that's not important. What matters is that I can't do anything about it now. I can either keep the case open for a lack of evidence or close it and let the kid walk without a missing person poster on his record. I saw the footage– he's well and alive. He also testified that he was perfectly fine and had only moved; nothing more.” 

“We know he's alive–” Katsuki’s mother growled, “--But we want to know if he's okay.” 

Katsuki knew that there was a big difference between being alive and okay. Izuku was alive in middle school, but never okay. Now it was time for the UA entrance exam and he was still gone. Bakugou clicked his tongue.

“That hero. The guy who brought him in– where did he go?” 

“Him? Oh, he had to be called in as backup around the area. It was out of his hands too, unfortunately.” Tsukauchi looked down, folding his hands against the desk. “He… he called me afterwards. Told me about how he found the boy. Which is probably the only reason why I'm going to keep the case open.” His eyes dragged over to Katsuki's parents. Calculating his next words.

“He was found on a roof. Not a very tall one, but it was a small apartment complex. He wasn't in any danger, I heard, but it was worrying to know that he was out so late. And on a roof no less.” 

Katsuki's parents furrowed their brows, holding onto each other with nervous hands. They both looked like they wanted to grieve for the boy who wasn't lost. 

Katsuki, however, was taking the news much differently. 

His eyes–once scrunched in anger– flew open and looked into the far distance as if remembering something. A single bead of sweat formed on his forehead, his hands completely still for once. His parents didn't notice how shellshocked their son was. 

Katsuki knew his parents were worried, but they didn't know. They never knew like Katsuki did, all too well he saw Izuku's waking hell. He always saw it as wasted time, wasted paper, wasted flowers… harmless pieces and a hapless boy. He never took the care to add the pieces up– until now. 

He couldn't understand Izuku, never for the life of him… how could a boy so weak be so kind? So inexplicably strong? He was born just as Katsuki was, and then had less than Katsuki had. Essentially, he was this small and powerless boy who smiled like no other. Like the world wasn't twisted and all his experiences with villainy never affected him the way it had Katsuki. He wasn't fearless, but he stood anyway. That only made Katsuki angrier. How come I'm the only one who saw the world differently after that? Izuku was afraid– but he never thought about backing down like Katsuki had. He felt so… so inferior to this boy who could only ever amount to nothing– a Deku. He wanted him to see– to understand that all his efforts were in vain because the world wouldn't change. That no one could ever be as selflessly heroic as him and he needed to give it up. His dreams were supposed to be crushed– his fears were supposed to leave him shaking like Katsuki– he was supposed to understand that being so selfless wouldn't change the fact that he couldn't. change. anything.

…And yet it didn't. 

Maybe that's what confused Katsuki the most. Maybe that's why he felt like he was the twisted one for ever questioning Izuku. That boy had smiled at him from the hospital bed like it was a given that he'd be okay. And that everything would be okay. 

But it was never okay. Katsuki didn't think it would ever be okay again because Izuku wasn't there with him. Every second he worried for Midoriya he knew it was entirely his own fault for not seeing it before. He didn't like feeling weak, and maybe seeing Izuku extend his hand towards Katsuki had started that. Katsuki never wanted to feel like a civilian– needing help from a hero– relying on someone else… how could he ever be a hero when Izuku was so much more than him, yet never met the requirements? 

Now this awful churning feeling in his gut was telling him that he never met the requirements at all. But he considered the possibility of it– from all those little “insignificant” instances adding up. 

He finally understood. 

 

He didn't want to understand. 

 

“...atsuki? Kat, are you alright?” His mother quelled.

I insisted. The voice rang in his head, I insisted I insisted I… who could he tell? Who could he possibly turn to that would believe him? He didn't know what to think anymore. The image of Izuku on a rooftop swirled against the pale face in his own memory, battering a headache against his temples. Something shifted under the tectonic plates of their history together, cracking and forming a rift that Katsuki couldn't cross to understand the why and how. But he knew. Aunty would never have allowed you to come, the crack formed, I insisted. He felt where it changed. His fundamental understanding of what made Izuku, Izuku. He knew what Izuku did and he'd seen the blood in his dreams. 

 

Bile rose in his throat. He had too much of an idea about what happened. No one would believe him. 

 

…Fuck. 

 

 

~~~~~~~~

Notes:

Prepare yourselves .... Next chapter: the Entrance Exam! Including an illustration!
Very short chapter, I know, but I didn't want to dirty the other two chapters sandwiched with this one because Bakugou's realization coupled with Izuku's short conversations are both separate but intertwined-- just as inexplicably as their fates are-- together. Also, I didn't want to waste my time by typing up two separate chapter titles.

Chapter 16: Young Man! Pick Yourself off the Ground!

Summary:

The UA entrance exam!! CAN I GET A 'YEAHHHH'?!

Notes:

Warnings: the usual stuff, not as intense this chapter, just action heavy.

UA.

Right in front of him stood the golden gates of his dream school. He had been there before– mostly just as a walk-by while he daydreamed about his future. But today it felt so much larger than himself. His dreams weren't starry eyed hopes from the days of his youth… he was here. Not just that, he was here to take the entrance exam. He never thought that he would actually get that far. Blinking the tears from his eyes, he walked forward. 

He walked forward so confidentially he didn't see where he was going.

Ah.

Falling face first: what a life, right?

A hand smacked against his shoulder and he flinched. The floor stopped its descent to his face. Blinking, he looked at the girl behind him. 

“I'm so sorry! I know I shouldn't use my quirk like this but… I didn't want to see you fall!” Izuku twisted a bit more to see her better. She was bright with brown hair, cropped to her shoulders, and a light smile on her face. Izuku smiled back, very lightly. 

“No, it's not a problem! Thanks!” He swerved in the air, righting himself. Antigravity? Five finger touch too… he shook the analysis from his thoughts. He watched as she pressed her fingertips together and released the gravity, letting Izuku's feet touch the ground again. 

“This is super nerve-wracking, right?” 

“Yeah,” Izuku scratched his neck. Although he didn't experience sweaty palms and a racing heart from nerves anymore, he still felt the familiar itch of it. 

“Well, good luck!” She hurried off, leaving Izuku to yell back a weak, “you too!’ 

 

Coming into the testing room, Izuku only felt even worse. Sure, he didn't feel the usual symptoms of nerves due to his egregiously slow heartbeat– but it still itched. It was a squirm through his whole body, like bees flitting about in his ribcage. Not quite static, but buzzing. Like potential and an animal ready to flee. The winding up of a muscle before a punch, that simple tension of potential energy. The analogies could only go so far as to describe his condition though. His heartbeat could potentially speed up, but it wouldn't change much. 

Shaking his head, he readied his pencil. The test started in mere seconds— he planned all week for this. The timer began and Izuku's pencil flew across the pages, flicking off answers with a calculated ease. He would've slowed down if he noticed how fast the pages turned. They were practically heating up while the time clicked by overhead– once the packet was closed, he opened it again and double-checked his answers. The girl next to him in the alternative schooling section eyed his paper, sweating before turning back to her own. 

The English section practically lit a fire under the boy. English just so happened to be his forte… why? All Might used to travel in the States a lot, presenting himself as an All-American hero! Izuku knew that he was born in Japan. His American accent was both a choice and an accident, if that makes sense. Being near All Might only made him brush up on his English further– even as he was proficient enough. (His father also spoke the language, but Izuku had long since given up on those reasons for English study.) Speeding through that section the second time, Izuku was faced with the end of the test. 

…Huh. 

He stared for a moment, glancing up at the clock. 56 minutes left? His lip curled, I thought I finished faster than that. He was a bit disappointed but… what could he do, right? Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and waited for the test to conclude. He looked up, tracing the clean ceiling with his eyes. 

Tap tap. 

Izuku flinched, looking down at his desk. Ectoplasm (Ectoplasm!!!) placed a single sheet of paper there, leveling Izuku with a look he couldn't quite track. Like Izuku was something that needed to be watched. Izuku tried his best to smile politely before the clone walked away. 

Flipping the page over, he saw a short prompt:

Extra Credit [Course of Choice: Special Oriented] 

What does being a hero mean to you? 

What type of hero do you want to be?

Below each choice was a lined box to put his answer into. Do they give extra credit here? He glimpsed at the clock, I guess if you finish early. These questions were awfully pointed. Izuku had half a mind to refuse the credit but– then he realized– what's the harm? He knew these questions, studied what they meant to him all his life. He knew exactly what to answer, even if he could run the risk of being wrong. 

A hero didn't mean “extraordinary” or “powerful” to the boy, it meant a reaching hand. A hero wasn't a license either. It could be an umbrella given on a rainy day, a dog returned to its owner, an ordinary civilian choosing to help out neighbors in a time of crisis… a hero wasn't anybody special– it was the wherewithal to follow through and act to help. It was the capacity to care enough to be selfless, even if for just a moment. You don't ever have to be anyone special to help those who need it. 

For the second question, Izuku mulled over the image of his mother. 

One that can give people Hope. To show them that someone was willing to fight for them, even if I might not be the best, even if I'm the only one available. I want to do everything in my power to make sure those I can reach are safe, no matter who they are. To show them that on the other side of tragedy, there can be hope for a better tomorrow. 

If you asked him now, he would never say he teared up. Look mom, his mind still whispered, I told you I'd be a hero, just like you. He definitely, definitely, did not tear up. Not one bit. 

Ectoplasm collected the paper, decidedly not commenting on the dark circle off the edge of the page. Instead he read the response and smiled, back turned to Izuku as he headed out of the testing room. 

 

Then came the practical. 

The entire auditorium buzzed with energy, whispering amongst themselves in the throws of the crowd– the front where Izuku sat was utterly silent. The girl next to him fidgeted with her shirt, twisting the hem in her hands while the boy to the other side nervously turned his quirk on and off again. Everyone was moving but it was so still. The tension pulled sharply when the click of a boots heels echoed from a back hallway. Growing closer, louder: Click, Click, click… 

Izuku's world filled with color. 

Standing there, in all his leather-clad glory was Present Mic. His hair done in its usual dramatic pose, shining that bright yellow. He was the same as any footage reel, all sunshine confidence with a smile that made each student feel safe–Izuku wanted to cheer. He tried to bite back that face-splitting smile as if he naturally wanted to return the gesture. Ultimately he failed, and joy spread over his face like he was seeing All Might for the first time. That sparkly eyed joy he held before the diagnosis. He felt like a kid again when everything was right in the world. 

 

“HELLOOOO UA APPLICANTS!” Present Mic projected, “ILL BE YOUR PRACTITIONER FOR THE PRACTICAL EXAM– CAN I GET A ‘YEAHHHH’?!” Izuku was a little stunned as he said the last part in English. Present Mic turned, cupping a hand to his ear with a large smile on his face. 

…Well, it was rude to just leave him hanging, right? 

“YEAH!!” Izuku's hands funneled his mouth while his yell carried across the silent auditorium. Present Mic swiveled to look at him, grinning and stricken at the same time. 

“HEY, I LIKE YOUR ENERGY, LISTENER!” He pointed near Izuku. The boy blushed and buried his face in his hands, hoping to shield himself from the judgemental glances of his peers. 

The explanation of the exam proceeded, with Present Mic gesturing wildly with the swagger of a rockstar. At some point Izuku would swear he played an air guitar… how suspicious, a zero point robot that acts as an obstacle? He would have to thank that boy wearing glasses later. If it weren't for him then Izuku might have completely glanced over that major detail. That must be by design. Shaking his head, he examined his exam card one more time. His picture was a little outdated– but he hadn't taken another picture of himself in a year, so he supposed it was fine for now. 

Exam area A, here I come! 

 

—---

They had time to change (thank God) so Izuku now sported a dark tracksuit with a compression top underneath with a neckline long enough to cover that scar on his neck. He quickly pulled on the gloves he brought with him, checking the ties on his shoes with a keen eye before deeming himself presentable. Right before the exam, CatWalk had actually called him—

“Oh! Hey!” A voice behind him chirped. Izuku turned, smiling minutely. It was the girl from earlier– with the pink cheeks and anti-gravity quirk.

“It's you! The girl with the anti-gravity quirk!” His hands twisted around the electrical gloves he wore. 

“You–wow, you really noticed that?” 

“Yes! I would love to ask you about the specifics later if you're up for it! It's really such an interesting quirk…” he stopped himself from rambling any further. 

“Right! Good luck on the test!”

“You–you too!” My first friend?! She waved, walking off while she focused on her breathing. Izuku quickly shook the interaction from his mind, looking straight at the starting line. 

 

The gates to the exam center were already open– Izuku felt his whole body tense at the sight. He knew they must be waiting for a signal if Present Mic’s casual saunter up a building's side was any indication. The loud hero seemed to smirk then, gearing up for something by bracing his foot on the ledge. Izuku immediately hunkered down to be fully prepared if he needed to run. Just like CatWalk said, Izuku recalled: “Hero schools always have a trick up their sleeve when it comes to these practical exams. With Principal Nedzu in the picture you'll want to double those tricks by ten– never expect anything but the unexpected, especially when it comes to things like this. Don't question anything, just do what your body leads you to do.” He remembered staying silent for a long time after that, utterly speechless at her intent to care. “But… but what if my instincts are wrong?” 

“You've got a good head on your shoulders. Trust me when I say that your goody-goody instincts aren't going to be wrong here. Remember Kit, stay catty!” 

That surprise pep talk call was exactly what he needed. CatWalk always had a taste for these sorts of things. 

Present Mic took in a gasp, Izuku twitched. 

“START!” 

Before he could hear another word he could feel concrete beating under his shoes. People watched with wide eyes when Izuku flew past them and through the gates without further advocacy. 

“WELL? THERE'S NO– Uh?” Present Mic sputtered. “LOOKS LIKE THEY’VE GOT THE RIGHT IDEA!” Izuku noted that two others followed immediately behind him, taking up the mantle of his boldness alongside him. 

If he had a normal heart it would be beating out of his chest right now– but just by the pure lack of it, he's as calm as can be. Although, he is twitchy and nervous out of his mind. A rumble started up from the building to the right of him.

Startled, he swiveled out of the way before a two pointer burst from the wall. The Bot was a good few feet taller than Izuku– its bulky frame littered with open components and thickly welded seams. It jerked, gears clinking with a burst of steam, sensors landing immediately on Izuku. He clenched his jaw in contemplation. I have a good headstart, so I should be alright to try my moves out on this one. The bot swept a hand up– it's so slow! 

Izuku hopped up, leaping across its arm. His hand stretched out and jutted against an open spot in the metal neck of the thing. He gripped what he saw and tore. An awful screech came from the unoiled joints while its head limped to the side. Sparks flew in a glittering pattern against his palms. The movements sputtered out, feet skidding across the ground while it fell like a marionette with its strings cut. Izuku tucked and rolled, grunting from the harsh impact on the ground. Rubbing the dirt and oil from his eyes he assessed the damage. 

It's down for the count! He took the small victory. 

His next target was a difficult find. Technically– it wasn't even his opponent to begin with. A tall boy swayed meters ahead of where Izuku ran the streets. His deep, tired eyes were open in this fearful reasoning that he was severely unprepared. His purple hair was already littered with dust and oily components that clung to his skin in thick globs– Izuku watched him take a shaky step back, swallowing thickly when a three-pointer approached. He could practically hear the boy’s thoughts that displayed on his face. I can't do this, he was thinking, what do I do? 

Izuku had been there before. He dipped away from the main road and gunned it straight for the teen, teeth bared while he strained himself to go faster. The bot– much broader than the last– shuddered while it approached the boy at an impossible speed. He figured that the three-pointer would be tricky… its behavior became erratic when the lavender-haired teen tried to flee the other way, not noticing yet that he had been blocked in. 

With a cry, Izuku launched himself at the back of the bot. It twisted quickly, scrambling to reach behind itself and rip Izuku off. However, its joints weren't that flexible. Its arms were almost locked in place while Izuku crawled up its back. His hands jammed down the Bot’s neck and gripped both a thick tube and a handful of wires. He tugged those until they snapped against his chin, sparking and whipping that copper– almost searing his skin and leaving raised bumps behind. He yelped and ripped that tube back as well. The tube popped free and spewed steam through the air before Izuku kicked the convulsing bot to the side, sending himself out of harm's way and away from the other teen. 

That same teen seemed to be contemplating both his and Izuku's existence in that moment. There was a shining reverence there too, in the way he gaped at the gasping greenette. Izuku didn't spend another second checking if the bot was down– instead he opted to jog over to the boy. 

“Hey! Are–are you alright?” 

He blinked. Then blinked again. “Uh, yeah? What–”

Izuku pulled off his left glove, handing it to the exhausted teenager with a blinding grin. The teen took it in careful hands, curious. 

Izuku's hands landed on the boy's shoulders, “You've got this. That glove can protect your hands from the sparks, so don't be afraid to get in there!” Izuku turned on his heel for the road, yelling behind him: “PLUS ULTRA!” 

Yet another flame sparked when Izuku left. A boy thought then, with a discerning look, that yes, he could do this. 

 

Izuku felt good. Better than he has in a long time. Running had never felt so light before– like he was hurling himself forward without any weight to his step. He was a bullet– ricocheting between robots and accidental saves, leaving limp metal bodies in his wake. He couldn't remember how many points he had by now– he had counted eight robots. They seemed to ebb and flow from building basements and rooftop access like a metal bleed into the concrete jungle that was Grounds A. 

His ninth robot was sent to the side with a twisting kick he learned from CatWalk, flinging him past a blonde boy who thanked him in French. Izuku gave him a pitying look while the blonde clutched his stomach. Touching down, he flipped back into the throes of battle. His hands were caked in all sorts of debris while his dark tracksuit was reduced to a splotchy grey from all the resounding chaos– mostly from bursting asphalt. He found himself rooting for that lavender boy whenever he chanced a look at his bare left hand. 

CRACK! 

“HNG–!” Wind whipped around the area, the floor quaking under his feet without further warning. He stood wholly still, sensing every sore muscle in his body and how the earth shook him. He looked up where the screeching of gears echoed past the exclaims of others. Gigantic, 12 stories tall, and dark green stood the one and only Zero-Pointer. 

He watched on as one of its huge fists anchored up into the sky. He didn't think to run, as he was stuck thinking about how this was most definitely Principal Nedzu's creation. When that fist struck the ground, Izuku could only protect his eyes from the dust that plunged deep into the crowd of frightened students. 

“What the–!” He heard one cry out. 

“TWO MINUTES LEFT, LISTENERS!” 

“Two… minutes?” His mind blanked. Had I gotten enough points? How many points did I need anyway– no no if I got all two-pointers that's still only 18 points– that anti-gravity girl got 28– will I not make it in? 

His stomach dropped to his feet. Buildings crumbled from the top, down to the ground under the crushing tracks of the giant Zero-Pointer. 

I won't make it in. 

His heart throbbed painfully in his chest. 

I never could have made it in– he thought of All Might, his encouraging words and warnings about how volatile his new quirk was– I'm still… I'm still just a Deku after all. 

And then he heard it. 

A whimpering cry from the far distance– a girl with pink cheeks covered in soot wailed while her hands gripped the ground like a savior. That desperate plea of her eyes, leg wedged beneath a thick slab of concrete. Her oncoming doom loomed behind her with glowing red eyes. She was going to be crushed at this rate. 

I can't just let her die–! 

“HEY! What the hell are you doing– Run!” Purple hair swam into his vision and he almost sobbed in relief. Instead, he gripped the Boy’s left hand with a burning determination in his eyes. Then he ran– towards the boy. 

“We need to help that girl!!” 

“W–WE?!?” 

“Yes– We! I can't do it alone!!” 

He threw the boy forward once they were close enough. He staggered, eyes wide when the girl blinked up at him with teary eyes. “Help her get that concrete off her leg! She must've reached her quirk limit!” 

“But– but what about–!!” The boy squeaked and thrusted a pointed hand towards the giant oncoming robot. Izuku grimaced. It's coming too fast– if I don't do something then he won't be able to help her. 

Once again, his thoughts drifted to the Principal of UA.

Nedzu-- wasn't he just the cleverest one? Cunning, scheming, and insanely smart. Izuku admired him greatly for that, but at times like this he could see why others found those qualities the most damning. He allowed himself a moment to get starry eyed over this. Like a rook on a chessboard, Izuku set into motion. Just as Nedzu would have planned to see-- spurring his own heroics into action for the dissection that Nedzu would most likely put him under. Chess has always been Nedzu's favorite game. 

Sliding into place, Izuku decided that he was more like a knight.

He hadn't felt his leg shatter– no, rather– he felt the wind bite his cheeks when he rocketed straight for the robot’s face. The rush of it past his ears nearly deafened him to the shocked gasps of the running crowd. His fist clenched, rearing back in ready to pummel the robot. 

Remember, pull all your muscles taut– pure energy crackled beneath his skin– clench your buttcheeks– he twisted, eyes focused on the bright lights of its sensors– and from every corner of your mind, yell with all your might– 

His fist struck forward– SMASH!! 

CCCRCCKK– KA—!

a crater formed within a second, buzzing components rupturing before his eyes. The aftershocks came as it detonated all over– fracturing past repair. He heard windows shatter, buildings rumble, and wind blasting back with bruising force. Above all, he saw the behemoth split and errupt– BOOM!

Tearing itself asunder, simultaneously streaking burning components past like meteors to the empty buildings behind it. It fell backwards, entirely pulverized by the single punch. 

His body and mind only sought to sync up when he began to fall– straight down. 

Colored images of his first dive tore a cry from him. A forgotten memory of the terror and plead for life– he didn't want to die here. He was frozen in terror. His body–his limbs and his coordination refused to listen as he prayed desperately that someone–anyone– wouldn't let him fall. Those seconds crawled when the pain finally registered.

The rip and tear of ligaments– his pulsing wounds try to seal themselves. The dumb sort of realization that his legs aren't just broken– but shattered beyond imagination. His arm was much the same, fluttering in the wind like a sick, fleshy approximation of what an arm should look like. He gagged, a tear running down his cheek. 

His quirk was a thing of horror. Of broken fingers and dirt-sodden nails, congealing blood in a cycle of resurrection from his own neglect. Both of them– perpetually fueling a strange gore of human nature within himself. He learned that the power he wielded was something to fear, even further past the dread of others finding out. But the alarm of watching his own body traumatize itself and stitch back together. 

His eyes trained on the sky, thoughts silent and ears ringing in preparation for another fall. He didn't feel cold from the blistering wind, only pleasantly warm from the shining forgiveness of the sun.

… The sky is so blue today. 

His eyes slid shut on instinct. It's pretty. 

 

… SMACK! 

“Ive–ive got you! You're– I've got you…” Izuku's eyes snapped back open. His head snapped to the side, making eye contact with both the purple boy and the brunette from earlier. His breath stuttered. 

“R–release…” her hands pressed together. Izuku fell gently as he could, letting his wounds jostle in favor of staring at the girl, shocked. 

She turned her head to the side, spitting up bile while the boy lowered her, careful of her leg. He whispered placations to her with a worried glance over his shoulder to Izuku. 

They … they saved me? He didn't blink, only let another tear slip down and wet his hair. His hand creeped up to clench his fluttering heart– beating so flippantly in his chest from the surprise. 

“Ah!” He exclaimed, suddenly remembering. “Are you alright?!” He used his arm to try and get himself up, grunting when his wounds stabbed at his nerves. 

“Whoa–whoa! Don't get up!” The boy used his hand to push Izuku back down, softly. 

“Am–am I alright? Me!” She looked incredulous, waving a hand over his legs and arm. “You're– look at you! You've got noodles for legs now!!” 

Izuku stared for moment. Then he looked down, then back up, then down again– yeah, okay, he was pretty messed up. 

“Ah… whoops?” 

“...”

“...”

The purple haired boy snickered, “...’whoopsie-daisy’? Seriously??” 

The three of them burst into a round of giggles, Izuku held his ribs tightly with each hitching breath. 

“TIMES UP, LISTENERS!” 

His face fell. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh god– what's that face for? Did your ribs stab into your lungs or something? I heard that can happen…” the Lavender boy mumbled. 

“No–no it's…” he keened, instantly disappointed in himself. “... I don't think– I don't think I got enough points.” He sniffled.

“Awh, man, im– I'm so sorry…” the other boy breathed, “After everything you've done, too…” 

“I'm sorry! It must be because of me– I– I shouldn't have–!” The girl teared up again, a guilty look flooding her features.

“No! No no it's not because of you guys! It's– I should have done better– tried harder.” He hung his head. “You couldn't have done anything about it– it's not your fault you needed help.” He offered the two of them a watery smile. 

He thought he must've looked pathetic in that moment. This boy with an earth-shattering strength; wounded and limp offering others a smile as empty as his power. Sniffling, small, and failing. 

He only saw the other boy’s fist clench before the clacking of a cane interrupted them. 

“Oh dear…” A calm voice cooed, “let's get you fixed up, dearie.” Izuku turned on his side, looking up at the Youthful hero herself!!

“Recovery girl: the Youthful heroine!” He recalled with a wide smile. “Ohmygod I can't believe I get to meet you– I've been a huge fan of your work– you're– it's so nice to meet you!!” He thrust his hand out for a handshake. The heroine laughed, shaking his hand lightly before kissing it. Izuku smiled brightly, looking down to watch his bones realign themselves. Once everything looked good, he started to lift himself up to test his legs out. 

The purple haired boy offered him a hand. 

“Oh– thanks!” He gripped the hand with his own, specifically the right one. I didn't know bones could feel sore like this! Once he was lifted, he tested his legs. 

Recovery Girl moved on to the floaty girl, kissing her wound and handing her some gummies. She proceeded to offer these gummies to Izuku. 

“These are energy gummies. I'm a little shocked that you hadn't passed out when I healed you, but you should eat these so your energy levels don't crash down later.” The woman gave him one of those grandmotherly smiles before hobbling away to another patient. Izuku ate the gummies excitedly. 

“Hey man, are you okay?” The Tired teen asked, handing back the electrical glove Izuku let him borrow. 

“Ah. Yeah, I'll be fine. Recovery Girl really spared me from a bad walk home!” Izuku joked awkwardly. “Let's start heading back– testing is,” Izuku paused. His eyes slid over to the Zero-Pointer with a sad look. “Testing is over now.” 

“Oh– yeah, yeah it is.” The boy scratched his neck. “Look. I just wanted to say– you– you really didn't have to help me. I was kinda doomed when I found out the test was filled with robots. But… thanks. A lot.” Izuku blinked back tears, glancing away from the boy so his fragile emotions didn't react to the grateful face he only caught a glimpse of. 

The boy sighed. “I don't think I could have passed without you.” 

They walked in a long stretch of silence, nervous energy flitting between the two at the sight of crowds of students. Izuku could hear them whispering, crowing rumors to each other with trained eyes on the road, waiting for their target to appear. Izuku shook the thought from his head, looking back up at the tired teen while thinking about his words. 

“I didn't help you because I had to. I wanted to.” 

“...thanks.” 

 

The moment passed. He was changed and exhausted by the time he hopped on the train back home. Izuku ignored the drum of alone, alone, alone, alone. The train ride back to his warehouse was agonizing knowing that he wouldn't be seeing the person he so desperately wanted to. He trudged out of the station, greeting the sunset with a miserable glance. It was always so beautiful. 

"Are you looking yet, mom?" 

The walk back was filled with the sound of his shoes, adapted with fabric to nearly silence his footfalls. He remembered Present Mic's radio the other night-- an old English song he didn't quite remember the name of tumbled from his lips. 

"Hm hm hm... In my life-- oh why do I give valuable time~" he smiled a bit, "to people who don't care if I, live or die?" His voice was barely a whisper in the shadow of a building. A cat down an alley meowed softly, and Izuku kicked a rock down the sidewalk as he moved. 

Going to his bed, he sobbed. Promptly kicking his shoes off and crying himself to sleep against his pillow. 

 

He didn't stop apologizing.

 

 

~~~~~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

UA ENTRANCE ARC-- COMPLETED
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Chapter 17: Implications

Summary:

The aftermath with the teachers of UA + Katsuki getting his letter!

Notes:

Warnings: mentions of past death, past bullying, past child abuse, blood and mild gore, suicide mentions

 

“Holy Fuck!!” 

“Kayama, sit down.” 

The boom echoed across the screen, speakers being blown out on the nearest cameras. Cementoss got up with a sigh, rushing out of the door. All Might jolted in his seat with awe written clearly across his emaciated face. Everyone in the room had been previously warned about his condition so he was free to be comfortable. Not that Aizawa particularly gave a fuck. However, his eyebrows raised to his forehead when he saw just who was on screen.

“Midoriya?” He choked.

Kayama turned to him, face screwed up in confusion. “You know this kid?” 

All Might gave Aizawa a look he couldn't quite read.

“I've met him a few times– but I thought…” Nedzu smiled imploringly at the screen, wiggling happily in his seat while everything unfolded before him. Aizawa took another look at that kid– those tired eyes and nervous disposition were nearly gone as he soared through the sky. “...nevermind.”

 

There was a chorus of concern when he began to plummet. One camera watched Ochaco Uraraka being lifted by Shinsou Hitoshi, crying out in alarm when the boy dropped from the sky. He looked so… eerily limp. The cameras got about a 3/4ths angle of his face on one screen, but it was enough to see his eyes gather tears unseeingly, sliding shut just meters before the ground. 

“He's going to make impact!” Cementoss shouted over the comms, “I'm going to break his fall– is Recovery Girl on route?” 

“Wait!” Nedzu jumped, “Just watch– he’ll make it out just fine.” 

“What the hell are you thinking?!” Vlad roared, about the same time that Aizawa glared at the rat. 

It all happened too fast– the seconds went by before another hero could rush out the door, seeing him come just feet from cracking his skull open on UA grounds. Aizawa could already see the blood. 

“Ive–ive got you! You're– I've got you…” blessed came those words. The resounding smack through the speakers and the relieved exhale of nearly every hero there. All Might seemed to wither just a bit more. The relief didn't last– Aizawa's head snapped towards Nedzu, fury written clear on his face. 

“You–!” 

“Now, now, calm down. I knew very well that Ururaka would get to him on time.” That didn't stop Aizawa from hissing out a curse under his breath. He wasn't daft– he understood the capabilities of Nedzu and how far his intelligence went– but he also would have liked an explanation beforehand. 

“...how strange.” Nedzu hummed, inspecting the footage. “It seems his bones were completely pulverized!” 

“You sound awfully cheery about that.” 

“Ah. Apologies, then.” 

Aizawa sighed. Peering over at the footage, he let his initial doubts flow to the surface. “His quirk drawback cannot possibly be that violent. It's almost like–” 

“He is quite the promising prospect, as all of our applicants are! This year has such an interesting batch, don't you agree?” His beady eyes slid over to Aizawa, effectively cutting him off and communicating something he probably shouldn't. 

Aizawa didn't let his surprise show. Instead he stared at the seedy rat, squinting at him. After a pause, Aizawa relented. “Sure.” He simply stated. Nedzu nodded, taking that as a win. 

When the time ran up, they rewound the footage. This time around, the teachers began conversing over the sounds of robots being blasted. Aizawa didn't bother talking to Nemuri. She busied herself with cooing at the smaller applicants who looked younger than they were. He could understand her in a way– like seeing a kitten opposed to an adult cat. Different gauge, he assumed. 

He watched one applicant in particular. The footage replayed the part where Midoriya had taken to helping Shinsou Hitoshi, giving him advice before dropping off…are those electrical gloves? He blinked. So he did his research. The two boys looked like muddy strays next to each other with their mussed hair and their dirtied clothes. Aizawa noticed that Midoriya looked much different under the sun. His dark hair shone a brilliant green sheen in the sun, eyes deep and dark against his unusually pale skin. He looked sick. There was a tone of grey to his skin, he wasn't sure if it was dust or not, and his under-eyes were red slivers, cutting into purple eye bags. Aizawa considered Shinsou to be pale, but next to Izuku he looked damn near tan. He almost looks like a corpse. 

Aizawa shuddered at the thought. 

“It seems I have prematurely tallied up the points!” Nedzu informed Aizawa, leaning across his chair to stare into the tired man's eyes. “If you could commence with printing the paperwork for one Izuku Midoriya, that would be appreciated!”

Aizawa raised an eyebrow. “He made it in?”

“I should hope he did! But I'm sure the HA would agree with me in 3 days time.” 

So it's set in stone, then. 

Nedzu whipped around, pulling out a laptop from what Aizawa theorizes to be his “hammer space” before typing up a storm on the keyboard. Aizawa slow-blinked. He was far too tired to ask. 

 

—----- 

 

All Might stared at the footage. He couldn't rip his eyes from it, really… Whatever he expected from Izuku's manifestation of One for All, it definitely was not that. As much as All Might knew that he wasn't the smartest cookie of the bunch, he knew how to be observant. Decades on the job, he figured. I don't think it's supposed to do that, his eyes practically bulged out of his head when the 0-Pointer splintered like glass, it's never done that before. He dabbed his mouth with a tissue to swipe away some blood. 

He knew that it was, at its core, an enhancer for what was already there. It only manifested like it did in me because I am quirkless, and I would have expected this if Young Midoriya was still quirkless. He was not quirkless anymore though. A self healing quirk would never equate to… this. 

All Might's heart plummeted when he couldn't think about a single possibility of how this could have happened– unless Midoriya was lying to him. 

My boy, Izuku's crumpled form fell in the footage in front of him, why did you feel the need to lie? But All Might couldn't bring himself to be offended, only disheartened. Did you feel like I was not trustworthy? How can I earn your trust? Wishing was hardly ever effective, though.

He felt that this wasn't the first time he didn't have Midoriya’s confidence. 

 

—-----

 

Later on, Shota received an email from Nedzu.

Aizawa,

Please print out this abridged paperwork instead! 

File attached:

Students_submission_ver2.DOCX

 

Aizawa grumbled.

 

Principal Nedzu,

What the hell is this? Why is it called “Student Submission” instead of “Parent Submission”? Why is the abridged paperwork necessary?

Answer or else. 

 

A pause. Then his inbox dinged. Aizawa was plenty sure that Nedzu looked like he got his hand caught in the cookie jar. Or stuck. Both of which he has actually seen happen to Nedzu before, that biscuit-loving rodent. 

 

Aizawa,

Questioning your boss, are we? How bold! 

Aizawa grumbled, already imagining that eerie smile. He continued reading;

I'm sure you're well aware of Midoriya’s activities, given that you have interacted with him twice on a professional basis. For safety reasons I have added additional clauses at his own discretion. Feel free to look through the file if it's too worrying for you! 

 

Aizawa felt his eye twitch. That rat knew he was too burnt out to even attempt reading pages of paperwork– goddamnit… 

A cackle echoed down the hallway when the printer whirred to life. 

 

—----

Katsuki stuck his head out into the hallway.

“Yo Ma!!”

“Yeah, brat?!” 

“Is the letter here?!”

“Oh shit–!”

“Mitsuki…”

“Oh please! It's nothing he hasn't heard before!”

“No, it's not that,” his father laughed, “honey, it's in your hand.” 

“...oh.” she hummed. “Thank you, lovely.”

Katsuki huffed, listening to them giggle to each other for a moment before his mother trudged up to his room. Katsuki held out his hand expectantly. 

“Yeah, yeah. Here it is. Tell us the results when you get down, ‘kay?” She quickly ruffled his spikes, ignoring his cries of indignation. He glowered at her but otherwise nodded. The letter was quickly snatched up by Katsuki. Pleased, his mother walked away. 

 

…

The letter. 

He stared at the seal, knowing that something was missing. Waltzing through his room felt like walking past a gallery of ghosts. Him and Izuku dancing around the room, him and Izuku cheering together over All Might footage, him and Izuku talking, jumping, stumbling with breathless giggles, high on each other's presence. Grasped hands and forgotten worries. 

Looking down at that parchment, his world turned grey all too suddenly. All sound disappeared into a vacuum the shape of his best friend, sitting on his bed with swinging legs. What does it mean to die, really? He contemplated that while All Might yapped on about his stellar performance. 

It felt too superficial. 

“Kacchan! Kacchan!” A boy didn't giggle, the air was completely still. And yet the memory still played about his mind so vividly. “When my arm is all good again– we can play heroes! My mom said so!” 

His lip didn't wobble. It fucking didn't. 

“Hell yeah! We can be a duo!!” 

“W-we can?!” Izuku’s eyes lit up, so much brighter than they did in the hospital.

“Yeah! Then you won't have to face all the bad guys alone again! I'll beat ‘em up for you!” 

“Kacchan…” Izuku sniffled, bringing the boy in for a gentle one-armed hug. “We–we’ll be the best hero duo ever!” 

Katsuki sat motionless in his chair, completely slack. Blank eyes reflected those sparkling eyes like a lifeline.

…How did it end up like this? 

Snarling, he slammed a fist into his desk, watching the items clatter around. How did I allow it to end up like this? Because, in the end, it was his fault. His fault that Izuku didn't feel safe enough to come to him– to ever speak to him again. He tried for the longest time to figure out why he acted the way he did. At one point he pinned it up to jealousy, but now he thinks it was a mix of jealousy and defeat. 

But then there was his death. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think a single thing about what happened. His mind went blank the first time, but every time after that it delved into shock and wordless speculation. He wanted to ask how he survived– wanted to search in himself to find out how he concluded that his childhood best-friend had killed himself– but there was no answer. How could he think to even ask the question if the answer seemed much more impossible? He wanted to know everything. The only evidence he had for his claims was pure instinct and snippets of a private conversation. Why did he do it? That, he knew half the answer to. He couldn't not know. He saw the answer torment him every night in hissing, bloody-toothed whispers from smiling lips. The image his mind made up persisted, letting Izuku's lips curl while a splintering head filled blood into the cracks in his lips. Your fault. It whispered, why did you do this to me? His thoughts circled back endlessly to the bullying. The burns, bandages, and tears. His jaw clenched at the memory of a particularly nasty uppercut, imagining what his teeth would feel like if they cracked so audibly like Izuku's had. His wandering thoughts faded, letting the letter come into view once again. Sighing, he moved himself towards the letter. 

I can't do anything about it now. He looked dead-on at the scoreboard in front of him, I just need to be better.

“...hah?” 

His spine snapped forward to crouch nearer towards the letter. His previous thoughts left forgotten, eyes wide. Bakugou– 2nd– 77 points. 

And in first place? 

Izuku-fucking-Midoriya. 1st– 92 points. 

 

“WHAT THE FU–!” 

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

Notes:

Smash that like button y'all and leave a comment so I feel less lonely (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ also! If you have any questions so far feel free to ask! Your questions help me flesh out the story because I don't have the perspective of someone who's reading the plot without knowing everything... A first-time read, y'know. So go ahead and do that if you want!